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[Six Years Earlier]

I'm bad at being an adult, or person in general. Frankly, I'm the definition of a mess, and it isn't all my fault, that I swear by. Most of it is, but sometimes, I just don't do what humans need - I forget. Eating, for example, it doesn't work for me, I never find something I want or I forget. Most of the time, my brain doesn't focus on it.

Growing up, I didn't have issues like this. I ate and had good hygiene, was on time for school or appointments. Now, it wasn't me who did that. It was my aunt, she told me what to do and I listened, like a good nephew I am. I'm on my own, living in an apartment I can barely pay rent on, without someone reminding me or telling me to do these things.

This is where the issues come in. I have a job, a good one; a barista at a local coffee shop, not Starbucks, but a quiet one that doesn't have many customers besides regulars. It pays well when one is actually on time and not twenty minutes late, my boss is nice and she doesn't always get angry with me, she cuts pay a few times and will make me work overtime, but she's a kind lady. Especially considering I'm late nearly every day, be it five minutes or twenty. I believe myself lucky she only has three workers and likes me.

That appears lazy as if I couldn't care less about my job or staying in my apartment, it's not though, or I don't mean it to. I have issues sleeping and usually spend nights reading, painting, or just staring at the ceiling telling myself I'll do better the next night and sleep. This means, I don't wake up for my alarm and when I do I'm almost late or already am.

As for hygiene, it's like eating, sometimes I just forget when I had a shower and don't take one that night. Then in the mornings, I'm rushing and not paying attention to what I'm doing, I'll scrub my underarms and such and wash my hair then I'm out. There are days I forget deodorant and need to use the one I keep in my small locker at work, there because it has happened many times.

I don't necessarily stink, no one avoids or tells me I do. My coworker, CeCe, would bluntly tell me if I stunk and so far, that is yet to happen. I don't feel good though, my skin feels dirty and it never feels like I'm a hundred percent healthy in that regard. It bothers me and I attempted to change my schedule, truly change it to a more healthy lifestyle, but nothing I did worked.

It's hard sometimes for a single submissive such as myself to deal with certain things, my thing just happens to be, being an unfunctional human being. I need a dominant to give control over to and that means in every extreme way, others may dislike that idea and I respect that, but I need that.

My past relationships have been with dominant that had control over every decision or action, what I wore or ate, what time I got up at, or went to bed. I love the extreme power exchange, not having to stress about what I'll wear or eat, being late to work, or just simply choosing where to go to dinner. It's a great feeling, being cared for, and knowing I'm in safe hands.

Sadly, I've been single for months now, maybe a year- I'm not great at time and occasionally forget the day. The dominant and I weren't completely happy with our relationship anymore, we didn't connect as much as we thought we did and everything became dull. It wasn't a painful breakup, we mutually agreed it was for the best. It stung me a bit, I had given him everything I could have but I understood if we both weren't happy then it wasn't healthy anymore.

I am over him, have been for a while now. Yet I haven't found another dominant, I don't know where to look seeing as the others found me through my Instagram. I don't post on it much and only go on once a month, but my bio says I'm submissive and single. Flirting isn't my strong suit, I'm shy and could have mild anxiety, I usually just wait for them to find me. It's worked so far and maybe I'll get lucky again.

I miss having a dominant and wearing a collar, giving up control. Being independent isn't for me and I'm getting tired of it, it only causes stress and anxiety every day, and making decisions is difficult when I can never decide on one thing or the other. Having someone here who enjoys taking care of me and taking responsibility for me is so much better, not only do I have someone to love and appreciate, but my needs are also met.

Dominants seem hard to find in the real world instead of online, whatever I see a man my type that screams dominant he's always with a woman or turns out he was vanilla. Granted, I never spoke to other men enough to ask for dates or been on a date with a man I haven't met over Instagram. CeCe embarrasses me abundantly when she asks guys if they are single and if so, would they be interested in BDSM. She always points to me specifically as she explains whatever to them, and the look on their faces is enough to make me hide below the counter.

She often returns with a pout and crossed arms, complaining, "how hard is it to find a decent kinky gay dude?! You need to be laid!"

I'm never surprised, gay men are either in a relationship or not interested in BDSM, or me. Maybe it's me, I do have odd eyes; one is blue and the other is green. Perhaps not many guys like that, find it too weird on top of my kinks or status as a submissive. CeCe says my eyes are beautiful and they are her favorite thing physically about me, but she's my friend and I don't necessarily believe her.

None of my ex-boyfriends ever said anything about my eyes, there were only two people I dated, but neither said a thing. I never asked what they thought, too nervous to know as my eyes have always been the thing I'm most insecure about. They're just a mistake in my DNA is what I tell myself, I never researched mismatched eyes or seen a doctor.

My mother had green eyes while my father had blue, a DNA strand must've ended up in the wrong place and I got both colors. It's like being the odd one out everywhere I go, occasionally people stare at me if my eyes are visible and I caught people whispering while looking at me. I don't know what they said but the other person always agrees on something, one time a girl winked at me and I was honestly frightened.

It wouldn't be a surprise if it was me, it only proves all my insecurities true. Then again, I don't try very hard to talk to attractive men but that's mainly because most are straight with girlfriends. Also, I get slightly shaky when I speak to strangers, and my face goes tomato red.

That's not to say I'm always like that, once I know someone and trust them, I can't shut up. I'm an excitable person and hyper when around good friends, I often forget that not everyone knows about BDSM or likes the ideas of it and bluntly talk about my master at the time. Slipping up that way, saying Master or Sir in public, is fairly easy for me.

It happens especially when I'm particularly excited, no matter what it is I'll eventually slip up. The moment it happens I'm not embarrassed, mostly awkward while I apologize to whoever stares at me weirdly. It's only after I leave the person, or people, I'm comfortable with that I'm embarrassed and I hide under my covers in bed scolding myself for not thinking before I speak.

My first boyfriend, also first Dominant, said it was cute and he sometimes playfully teased me about how red I would get hours after when mortification hit me. We still keep in touch and he does occasionally visit me, helping me pick up any mess that may be laying around my apartment and buying me dinner or lunch.

Our relationship was short because we realized it wasn't very healthy, as we were both inexperienced in the lifestyle of BDSM, for either of us and we needed someone with more experience in being a Dominant and submissive. He's done scenes with professional Subs, ones that help Doms fulfill their potential of being a good Dominant and he's much better now. He's single now but has been on a few dates that he claims never work out.

I'm not confident in myself to go to a professional Dominant and do sessions with them, I don't think I'd be able to submit to a new person that quick. Then again, maybe the first sessions are building trust, I never asked or tried it before. I'm a 'wait patiently impatiently' person, meaning I may want a boyfriend slash dominant at the moment but I won't go searching, I'm not good with people and I'd most likely ruin any chance of a date.

Sadly, waiting is usually one of those things that take the longest of time. I'll have to stick with daydreaming about wearing a special collar or having a man to hold me during movies and when we do to bed, and finally getting a schedule to correct my mess of a life.

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"I'm so sorry! I swear I was up and on my way! Just..the bus was, Ya know, slammed into.."

Thirty minutes late is a new record and I'm even more of a failure to myself, especially seeing the disappointment and hint of annoyance on my boss, Miss Parry's, face. I was up, that is the truth, fifteen minutes after my alarm I had rushed to the shower. Catching the bus is hard and it leaves fast, on bad days I miss it.

It was leaving in ten minutes, I had to rush through my shower and getting dressed. I made it to the bus, only for a car to slam into the back of it and for the drivers to start yelling at each other. Running here costs breath and I'm regretting not participating in the gym in high school.

Miss Parry sighs, her hazel eyes flick down and I see a hint of a smile crack on her black lipstick coated lips. Voice soft, as if speaking to a child, "Tom, honey, what are wearing?"

Eyebrows furrowed at the odd question, I glance down at myself. I regret it instantly, and I'm making a mental note to check my clothes before leaving my apartment. Instead of jeans and the t-shirt that I thought I had on, there are black worn-out sweat pants where the jeans should be and, what I usually wear to bed, a black crop top with the words 'Masters Pet'.

Blood is rushing to my face, I can feel the skin from my ears to my chest turn a bright red as I quickly hug myself to block the lettering. I can hear CeCe laughing from behind the counter but my eyes are glued to the floor, this may be the most embarrassing event to happen to me yet. Miss Parry hasn't said a word, however, I can feel her eyes dig into my skin and it forces me to peek a glance at her.

She merely looks mildly amused, not angry, or even upset but I still feel the urge to explain myself. "I was rushing and wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry! I promise-"

"Relax, Tom. It's fine, I understand you were only trying to get here. I'm just happy you were able to match today."

CeCe cackles even more at that, having lectured me about matching my colors more and not just throwing stuff on. More often than not, I come to work mismatched. She has tried to convince me to let her come over and pick out outfits to keep in my locker here for when this happens, it's a good idea but then I'd forget to bring that back home to wash.

Miss Parry gently grips my shoulder, her long black and gemmed nails grazing the thin shirt, and pushes me in the direction of the staff room. "Go get your apron and get to work. Your opening tomorrow, be here before seven. I'm also putting you on cleaning duty tonight."

I pout, not liking it but expecting it, as I nod and mumble a 'thank you' for not firing me. The staff room is behind the counter and around a small hallway next to the back door, CeCe gives me a smirk as I pass her which earns her my middle finger.

The cafe is small with merely a few tables and booths for people who sit in, there are three bathrooms toward the back; male, female, and one for transgender people. Miss Parry put a camera above the third bathroom door to make sure no one in there gets hurt or assaulted, she's married to a police officer and will keep someone from leaving if she's told or sees them abusing someone.

The front of the shop has windows for walls, allowing natural light to shine in and gives a lovely sight to rainy days. We have breakfast and lunch, Miss Parry cooks it all with the help of her nephew. We mainly have coffee though, and regulars patrons are our specialty. 

Thankfully there aren't many people in the building yet, two are talking by the windows and one is on his laptop at a booth. None has paid attention to me.

The theme of Miss Parrys Rocking Coffee is rock, metal, or alternative music. Miss Parry herself is a pretty goth woman with dyed black and white hair, she has pants that have chains and clunky boots. I'm not familiar with her fashion as I've never found a store that sells it or wore any of it myself. Most people that come in have piercings and tattoos, look scary but are the nicest people in the world and always have a request for music to be played. No one ever fights over a song, they just chill and enjoy the atmosphere.

That most likely way we get the same customers, others probably think this place is scary. It's not, everyone is respectful, and mainly no conversation goes beyond tattoos or what music they enjoy the most. I normally wouldn't fit in with that kind of crowd, their style, and music isn't what I'm necessarily into but I like this job and the interesting people I see.

The apron is a dark gray with the shops' name, CeCe added hand horn patches to hers and a skull with black roses to mine. Miss Parry likes the additions and wants to have some made if she hires more workers. I think the skull is cute, it's a detailed patch and it seems real but the roses around the head make it appear cuter.

CeCe is smugly smirking at me when I come out of the staff room as I put the apron on, her middle lip piercing shifting to the right. Normally, her long bright blue hair is up in a bun but today it's in a loose ponytail. CeCe has colored contacts over her eyes, always has and I've never seen her natural eye color, she favors red and all-black eyes- whites and all. Today she's changing it up with a neon blue that matches her hair.

Her fashion style is similar to Miss Parry, CeCe likes chains and baggy clothes although that's mainly large shirts. She has a collection of skirts in different shades of dark colors and big chunky platform boots, she's also in love with sweaters or hoodies.

Her outfit today is a new one, she must've gone shopping over the weekend. The bright colors of her leg tattoos are on show with her high waisted frilly skirt and her belly button piercing dangles over the waistband of it, she has a new dark blue crop top hoodie that allows her torso tattoos to peek out. Her lip, eyebrow, and cheek piercings have blue ends to them.

Red eyes glance down at my clothes, the apron thankfully hiding the words of the shirt, and a sarcastic laugh leaves her lips. "Honestly, I need to get you laid. You're gonna die pathetically at this point."

I can only roll my eyes, not even disagreeing because it's true. I'm a mess, in the full meaning of the word. I can't even take care of myself properly, I would be angry at myself but I've accepted that I'm meant to be dependent on another man. At this stage, I'm heavily considering a BDSM dating site and make waiting much shorter. That would dangerous, but honestly, I'm willing to try.

It's the afternoon, as I work lunch shift and still can't make it on time. I'm saved the conversation about my love life and CeCe telling me to just try to speak to someone when two people walk in, both guys, both tattooed all over, both having mohawks.

Looking at my friend, I see her check out the man with the red Mohawk and torn black jeans. I shake my head, "Let just get to work."

I have a dominant to daydream about when I get off, after all.