Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I’m what they call an Amazon, a Giantess, towering over most men, especially my own father. Dad? He’s a ‘Little.’ Not just short, mind you, but actually, genuinely small. His head barely reaches my knee, his hands are so tiny they fit perfectly in the palm of my own. In our society, women like me aren’t just leaders; we’re the bedrock, the backbone. We build, we manage, we protect. Men, the Littles, often need assistance. So, when I got my acceptance to the Grand Citadel University, Dad went into a panic.
“Who will help me reach the top shelf, Cory? How will I get to work? Who will even get me into bed at night?” He looked so vulnerable, my tiny dad, perched on the edge of the sofa, his little feet dangling. He offered me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. “Stay, my dear. You can control the house, the finances. I’ll keep working, of course, but you’ll be the woman of the house.” It was a tempting offer. A sizable allowance sealed the deal. College could wait. Power, and a fat bank account, were right here.
