“I was more than this meek, defenseless victim. I had something within me that was stronger than the sum of all my unacceptable parts.”

“Okay, rule number one: if you do not understand something, you need to stop me and tell me you don’t understand. If I ask if you’ve got it and you say you’ve got it but you don’t really have it, then it’s not my fault that you haven’t got it. Got it?”

“I can tell you a lot of things about bullying and what it does to a person.” Tears are forming in his eyes as he continues.”But sadly, I can’t tell you that I’ve done my part to make it stop.”

“Really it’s not deliberate. Sometimes I try really hard to be anything but gay. I watch the other guys—and I know what you’re thinking. You think I mean I check them out, and yeah, I can’t help but do that too. But what I’m sayin is that I watch the really normal guys, the ones who are into sports, who act all totally straight, and I try to copy them. I try to lower the timber of my voice, not sound so nasally when I talk. I try to gesture with my hands in a manly sorta way instead of all limp-wristed and girly. I try to remember not to sit with my legs crossed, and I try really hard to avoid throwing a ball like a girl.”

“A Master is not someone who merely revels in the benefits that he reaps from the power and control that he wields over his sub. A Master is not just an automaton who emotionally doles out orders and watches with amusement as his minions perform his bidding. A Master is not a person who only relishes the benefits that his superior status entitles him. Certainly all of these characteristics could and often do exist within a Master. He may be demanding and at times selfish. He may genuinely enjoy and even be aroused by the power that he has over a sub. He may be able to expertly control his emotions, issuing his commands and enforcing his discipline with stone-faced determination. But a true Master, a Master such as Matt, was so invested in his sub that he was actually in a way a slave himself. He was a slave to his love for me. He was a slave to his responsibility. He was a slave to the passion and the commitment. He was a slave to his overwhelming desire to protect his property at all costs. He was a slave to his slave. I knew without questions that he loved me so much he'd literally lay down his life for me. He owned me, and his ownership owned him”

“They‟re from my best friend,” I said. “They‟re from my best gay friend, Curtis Chapman.” He stood there, frozen, possibly thinking I was joking. “Curtis won‟t be back. He got out… he was saved. He won‟t have to be called names, picked on, tortured, and assaulted anymore. He‟s gone to a different school, and your days of bullying him are over.” “Jon, the kid‟s a fag!” “And he‟s my best friend, and I love him… and so does God”

“Oh cripes, I can hardly walk! I think the circulation‟s getting cut off in my legs.” Shawn's mouth dropped open slightly and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” “Shawn, I'm wearing every single pair of underpanties that I own. Twenty-six pair.”