Daddy: A Memoir

Daddy: A Memoir

Madison Young

Language: English

Pages: 328

ISBN: 0985490284

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


In a world filled with constant change, we are all looking for a heroic figure to believe in. For Madison Young, that hero that we are in search of, is Daddy.  Daddy explores Young's interwoven relationships with the men in her life from the fraught relationship with her biological father to the BDSM "leather daddies" that lead her on a journey of sexual revelation, both on and off camera.  When Young finally finds the Daddy that she has been searching for, her fairytale quest is shattered with the flawed realities of human nature that exists outside of this little girl's fantasy.

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reached for a colorful orange book. I pulled it off the shelf and thumbed through it, trying to read each page before she turned to the next. The book, 10,000 Dresses, features a young, transgender girl who wants to wear dresses, but her parents don’t understand. Emma pointed at the illustrations. “’S zatt?” Emma’s finger landed on a dress made of lilies that hangs from a red valentine staircase. “That is a dress made of flowers. This little girl dreams that she can have a dress just like

Do I know anyone in the world that knows or cares about Tina Butcher? Is there any part of me that isn’t available for public consumption? Perhaps I had made my contribution to culture and achieved what I was meant to achieve. Maybe it was time to fade away. My phone rang, and the display read “Dad.” Not now. I collapsed onto the bed surrounded by an assemblage of memories: photos, objects, clothing, sex toys, cluttering the floor, spilling out of the dresser and the closet. I had texted

my chosen card. The Sun card. My mind drifted off to my father. During warm, humid Cincinnati summers I used to dig my fingers deep in steamy mulch to spread the moist bark chips across our flowerbeds, covering the top soil and improving the fertility of the earth. My dad dug holes deep in the ground to plant saplings and flowering bushes. We seemed to be surrounded by life during those summers. The life of simplicity, inhaling the smells and sounds of nature, was one of the feelings that had

jojoba oil onto my round belly and taut skin. I slipped into a long peach-colored empire waist evening gown that my mother wore when she was twenty years old, in 1974. I applied fresh makeup, lining my eyes, and opening my mouth to fill in my plump lips with rich, deep red lipstick. I smiled in the mirror, looking at my face, now thick with pregnancy, my vibrant red hair falling in waves down my back. I stared into the mirror reciting the difficult speech that I had to give with a smile,

see my naked and bound body bowed in the child’s pose position in the picture. Lochai is wearing a nice blue button-up shirt with his favorite kilt and looking straight into the camera, rope falling from his hands and looping toward the lens. He is honest and solid, an unwavering rock of support. Lochai, James, and I were all educators and artists before we became performers and directors. In our porn work we had tried to gracefully bring the authenticity of the BDSM community forth for the

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