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What do you look for in a partner? Control.

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My mother’s harsh eyes stared at the front door. She dangled my keys around on her finger wildly and clenched her jaw. She was drunk. Again.

“Hayden, dammit. Look at me. You’re going to be late for work,” she said. “Remember what you said? No more sick days.”

It was hard to face my mom today. Lately, it had been hard to talk to anyone. All I wanted to do was black the world out. I had too many responsibilities, and I felt like the world expected too much from me.

“I’m sure the SmartPet Shop can go another day without me,” I said. I bent down to open the small door of my refrigerator, hiding my face inside the cold compartment.

I felt a quick succession of vibrations pulse within my pocket. My mother glanced at the light illuminating from the open crease. It was the beast. My guy. He wanted me at his doorway in eight minutes. Fuck.

I closed my eyes and tried to swallow, but my mouth felt dry. Today was one of those rare hot fall days, and it wasn’t doing me any favors. “Mom, when did you say you were leaving again?” I asked.

Before she could answer, I ran to my room to grab a mesh shirt and a pair of vinyl pants. I held the outfit in front of me and sighed. It wasn’t right. I knew I’d look stupid in it.

“Why do you want me gone so bad, anyway?” Her voice came from directly behind me.

I quickly shoved the mesh shirt and pants into my bag, heart racing. I didn’t want her to see what I was holding. A voice inside my head echoed, “Just tell her. You like men too. It’s not a big deal.”

But to me, it was a big deal. I knew my mom could understand with time, but she wasn’t someone I could trust.

“I don’t, mom. It was just a question,” I said.

My mother was someone who liked to shout things, rather than whisper. I just wasn’t ready to tell the world. Plus, I wasn’t even sure what I was. I mean, maybe with the right guy I could open up, but I was pretty particular.

“Control your tone,” she said, still eyeing me strangely. Did she see? Fuck it. Let her see.

Control. I had created the illusion in my life to make people think I had everything under control. Deep down, I felt pretty helpless. I wanted to know what being held felt like. I wanted to be loved.

I wanted to be held tightly and told I could have the world, but nobody wanted to give that to me. Not my mother. Not my ex-girlfriend. Definitely not the guy I met at the club the other night.

I was just another guy, lost in a desire that should have been explored years ago. I was going to go to that man’s house. I was going to let him teach me because, goddammit, I wanted to be a different person.

“You’re just so secretive.” My mom just went on and on, glaring at an inch of mesh that had somehow escaped my bag. I pushed the shirt in with my finger and zipped it up as fast as I could.

“I’m paying your rent, ma. I can be whatever I want,” I said.

“Fine,” my mother said. “Suit yourself. Be secretive. Lock every damn thought up that you have. See where it gets you.” Her palm shook as she carefully held a glass of gin in her right hand, just barely visible from the cavities of her dress.

I didn’t know what to say, so I walked calmly toward the door. I paused before leaving. “Mom?” I whispered.

“What is it now?” Her face bore years of hardship, but she looked spiteful. Despite her misled resentment, she was still my mother. I had to be there for her because I knew everything she had been through to get here.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re working through hard times. I’ve just been stressed lately. Work stuff,” I said. “I love you, mom.”

“It’s okay. I love you too, sweetie-pie,” she said with a clear mark of confusion on her face.

The guilt poured in as soon as I shut the door. I wanted to be honest with her. I didn’t want to hide who I was, but I couldn’t have one serious conversation with the woman.

I didn’t have much going my way when I grew up. Kids liked to call me spoiled because I had two parents with decent jobs. In the town I grew up in, that was something remarkable.

My parents never loved each other, and they never got their chance to find peace. Out of nowhere, the accident happened. There was no real explanation. A heart attack led to a stroke or something. I didn’t need to know more. My dad was a shit person that liked to bully others.

As soon as I saw the red lights flashing, I knew my life was about to turn “real,” like the bad shit you’d see in dramatic movies. My mother spiraled out of control. Within a month, she lost her job. She couldn’t take the stress, and I didn’t blame her for turning inward. The accident brought her gut-wrenching pain.

I had to be the boy who held the world together. I was the one who smiled when I shouldn’t have been smiling. I studied hard and did everything the “right” way. I did it all for her.

I was strong. That’s what everyone told me. I gained a lot of confidence in myself, despite the tragedy. I could hold my own. I worked my way through high school. I secured a spot at a good college nearby. Eventually, I graduated.

I was the perfect son for my mother. I was Hayden Williams, the good old boy from down the road. But she couldn’t see that side of me. If she did, she never let me know.

“Strip,” he said.

I opened my eyes and felt the fresh air condition blow across my stupid mesh top. The beast circled around the room. He was putting me under a spotlight by examining me.

That time, I didn’t hesitate. I took off my clothes and stood before him, completely naked and one hundred percent hard as a fucking rock.

“Is this good for you, daddy?”

His breath came from deep inside his barrel-like chest. The aroma of his heavy cologne drifted around the room. My skin was on fire.

Shit. My heat masking pills. They were in my bag across the hallway. It was too late. There was no way I could get to them in time, nor would it even matter. They would take too long to kick in.

There were rules in the leather community. Strict rules. If you were as fertile as I was, you stayed the fuck home. If you went out to the clubs, you were asking for a good knotting. That may have been fine and dandy on paper, but it was nearly impossible to control yourself when you felt your heat resonate in your cock.

I was a walking target, and a part of me fucking loved it.

“The clothes are all wrong,” he said, sniffing the air lightly. If he knew anything, he was keeping it well under wraps. “Don’t ever wear those here again.”

Again. Did that mean I was invited back? “Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” I said.

I knew the clothes were fucking stupid. I’d have to throw them out immediately. No, I’d burn them instead.

He creased his eyes to see better and kept his hand gripped firmly around his chin. He wanted to give the impression that he was in intense thought, but I was convinced that he wasn’t. This was an act, I thought.

Although, when a guy stares at you like that for a good ten minutes straight, you have to wonder what his intentions are. What was more unsettling was the black-painted room, chock full of whips, chains, paddles, dildos of every size, and the endless row of leather outfits. He even had a St. Anthony’s cross! My favorite. If his lifestyle was an act, it was a pretty fucking good act.

“You never answered me earlier,” he said.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll answer anything you want to know,” I said.

He motioned for me to sit on the floor. I did, albeit slowly, but he didn’t react. Placing his hand against the back of my head, he grinned. “You’re a good slut,” he said. “Aren’t you?”

“I am,” I whispered.

“So, answer me. Are you straight?” he asked.

I swallowed down hard and stumbled on my words. Why did that bother him so much? Without smiling, his hand brushed against the head of my cock. He gripped around the shaft and jerked his wrist back. I have no idea what he did, but I almost came within a second.

“Tell me the truth, sweetie-pie,” he whispered, low but audible. “Do you date women?”

Sweetie-pie. I instantly thought of my mother, standing near the doorway, holding her gin in her hand, and looking like she knew something was up with me. I felt like a complete freak and a massive failure.

“I, uh… I used to,” I said. “I’ve only dated women, but they never satisfied me.”

He didn’t look pleased. For a good minute, he didn’t say a word. He just stared at the floor in silence. When he was ready, he grabbed a black choker from the wall of toys. The words “SLUT” were printed on the front end. A leather leash hung off the lock.

Biting his lower lip intensely, he placed it around my neck and locked it into place. I felt my body constrict almost immediately. “How’s that feel?” he asked.

“It’s heavy, daddy,” I admitted.

“Good. Don’t touch it. If you can’t handle this, you won’t be able to handle what’s coming,” he said.

“It’s okay. I want you to teach me,” I said.

A single flash went off in his eyes. His face contorted slightly like he was hiding his smile. He walked back toward the wall and thought about the next choice of operations.

“You’ve been hiding something else from me. Haven’t you?” he asked.

He didn’t stop to look at me. His attention was stuck on the large whip from the far right. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the question. I could take a lot, but I wasn’t sure about going straight for the eight-foot-long whip of death. I was petrified.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

He finally grabbed the whip and nodded to himself. Shit. Without glancing back at me, he sauntered toward my sitting body. “You’re in heat,” he said.

“Daddy, I—”

“Don’t lie to me. You deliberately walked into a club while in heat. Do you want to get knocked up? Why on earth would you do that?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I hung my head and felt my shallow breath hit the air in front of me.

The whip came crashing down, striking near my foot. Then, roaring loudly, he asked, “Are you sure?”

I flinched, and he dropped to the floor next to me. He held the curled whip in front of my face. I flinched again. He did it one more time. Finally, I slid my whole body away.

The accident. The red lights. The feeling of panic and absolute fear. Helplessness. Everything flashed inside of my head. I threw my hands in front of my chest and opened my eyes with nostalgic terror.

I wasn’t ready for this. The fantasy had turned too real.

He threw the whip behind him. “I’ll never hurt you,” he said. “But this world isn’t safe for omegas like you.”

He took me into his arms, holding me close to his muscular chest. I felt his warmth lift me up from the shallow darkness. It felt better than anything in the world because I knew it was real.

Life was painful, and this man wasn’t going to shield me from it. He was going to show me the darkness. Then, he was going to take all that pain away.

At least, I thought he would. “You aren’t ready for this,” he said.

“I am. I prom—” He held his palm out in front of him. I tried not to say anything or make any sudden movements. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he shook his head.

“It still feels wrong. You don’t even know what you want,” he said, eyes scoping down my nude body, glaring.

I wasn’t hard anymore. I was embarrassed. Maybe he was right, but my urges were nothing if not consistent. No. I knew what I wanted.

“I do,” I said. “I’ve known for a long time who I really was.”

“A gay man. An omega,” he said.

“No,” I whispered, glancing down at the white floors. “I don’t know.”

“This is about trust. Do you understand that? It’s the most powerful thing in the world, and right now, we don’t have it,” he said.

His kissed the top of my head before letting me go. I was all mixed up and confused. He was right. I didn’t know what I wanted at all. I couldn’t even figure out who I was anymore.

“You messaged me first, remember? You were cute, young enough and definitely new to the scene,” he said. I felt the butterflies start to form in my stomach, but I was sure this would be our last meeting. He grabbed my bag and handed it to me.

“I’m sorry for letting you down,” I said.

“Leo,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“The name is Leo,” he said. “And everyone lets me down. Now, please leave.”

“Leo,” I said, staring into his eyes. He didn’t say anything back, so I didn’t dare open my mouth. I put on my clothes and left the building. In a few seconds, it was over.

But when I pulled off of the freeway, I felt my phone vibrate. I read the words on the screen. I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Tomorrow. Midnight.”