Page 2 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy

Because my entire world had been turned on its axis.

This.

This was it.

Thiswas why nothing had seemed quite right my whole life. Why something had always kind of felt off, but I didn’t know any different, so I’d never questioned it before now. Why everything that led to this was disjointed and hazy until this one thing, thisonething locked into place, and the veil was lifted. And it all became clear.

In a singular moment, everything fell into place. That wasmeon the page. I was him.

I was a trans man.

My brain started to piece together memories from a lifetime that now felt disparate and strange. How, as a kid, I was jealous of my brother’s toys. When I was obsessed with changing my name and went by a different one until people made me feel like it was weird. That time I even pretended to cut my hair by tucking it under my shirt and dreamt of never being forced to wear a dress again.

Like a dam had been opened, more memories came crashing in.

That time I got a baby doll with clothes for my birthday and couldn’t figure out what the hell my parents wanted me to do with it.

The Christmas my brother got a race track with tiny cars and I snuck in to play with them when he wasn’t around.

The time I got gum in my hair and my mom threatened to cut it all off—and I was secretly excited for that, though it never actually happened.

My prom where I wanted to wear something other than a dress but didn’t have the cognizance to realize I could’ve worn a suit.

My first sexual encounter where I was so focused on the guy I was with and his body that I didn’t even get off. The minimalsexual contact since because I didn’t like penetration. The sheer terror of getting pregnant—and the utter confusion around why every woman I met seemed to want that when I didn’t. The fact that I was always attracted to twinks who weren’t exactly attracted to someone who presented as a woman, someone like me.

By the time I finished the book, my eyes were red and puffy, and my entire world had shifted. I knew, deep in my soul, that I was not the gender I was assigned at birth, not the woman I’d presented as for my entire thirty-seven years on this planet.

I was a man. In hindsight, it was so obvious, but I’d missed it until now.

I’d heard it said that we realize what we need to in the exact right moment, that we have to be in the right place in life, go through certain experiences, for some things to make sense, but I felt so . . . well, I didn’t know exactly how I felt. Unmoored, maybe.

Clarity would probably come days, weeks, and months later. I hoped it would, anyway.

But for now, one question plagued my mind more than any other as I processed this life-altering revelation: How the hell hadn’t I seen this before?

Chapter two

Cameron

Mid-November

This was it. My last chance. The final countdown or some shit.

This guy was either going to be my first and forever Daddy or the last in a long line of failed attempts at finding true love.

Because I was exhausted. Done.

After spending the last ten-plus years since coming out as a trans man bouncing around on the latest dating apps—I’d tried them all, even the supposedly trans-friendly ones where I was fetishized more often than not—I wastired. Like deep-in-my-soul tired. I couldn’t keep going like this.

I glanced at my phone lying on the white tablecloth next to the perfectly executed place setting and tapped it to check the time. Five minutes until he was late. I sighed soundlessly, keeping my posture straight just in case I didn’t see him right away. I didn’t want to start the night off on the wrong foot in case this was Mr. Right. He still had a few minutes.

Scooting back in the plush chair, I tugged on the hem of my button-up shirt—bright blue to match my eyes. Everything seemed to be in place. Even seven years post top surgery, I still felt a thrill when I looked down at my chest to see it was flat.

After starting hormones more than ten years ago, I loved how my body now reflected who I was inside. How I could wear these shirts now when, in the beginning, I could never get them buttoned over my hips.

I’d never felt more myself than I did now.

At that thought, I straightened my shoulders, and a genuine smile stretched across my face. I’d been excited about this date since he’d messaged me a few days ago and set it up. I’d actually found him on the Daddy’s Boy app, the one a friend, Ethan, had launched about five years ago. I’d only realized I was a sub, aboy, a handful of years before that. And if anyone who read my novels were paying attention, they’d likely have noticed the shift in my writing around the same time. Daddies and boys were my brand now, and my book income had taken off because of it.