You can't believe what you're hearing. Your dad plans on forcing you to respect him by making sure the only sexual relief you experience is at his hands?? That's sick!
You curl up into a fearful ball, naked, in your father's vast palm. He grumbles something about a teenage brat and tosses you back in your cage, returning to his work. You're relieved to be free of your father's giant, powerful fingers, but you have a nasty foreboding feeling about all of this.
As you gaze uncertainly at the giant businessman's stern, serious face while he works, you wonder just what extent of humiliation your own father is capable of.
You've never felt so vulnerable or intimidated. You wish more than anything that this would all go away; that you could wake up in bed to discover it was all a dream.
If you did, you know you'd jump out of bed, race downstairs to where your dad was eating breakfast and apologize for ever last time you'd ever disrespected him, while you fell to your knees and kissed his feet.
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