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.
towering over most men
Weeks later, Mrs. Gable next door, a formidable Amazon herself, noticed my continued presence. “Cory, dear, you’re home more often. My Little Johnny is a handful after school. Would you mind babysitting him for me twice a week?” Easy money. Of course, I said yes. It started subtly. Johnny had a strict routine. Bedtime at 7 PM. Only healthy snacks. And for bed? A soft, warm onesie.
One evening, I was coaxing him to finish his broccoli, and he was making precisely the same frustrated grunts my father made when I suggested he try kale. And then it hit me. The parallels were undeniable. Dad needed that same structure. He was, in essence, a much older, more eloquent version of Johnny.
The very next day, I initiated the new household regime. “Dad,” I announced, standing over him as he tried to reach for the sugary cereal box. “From now on, we’re doing things differently.” His eyes, wide and innocent, looked up at me. “Bedtime is 8 PM sharp. No TV time, you are to go straight to bed! And you’ll be wearing your new flannel onesie – it’s good for circulation.” The sugary cereals were replaced with oatmeal. Sodas with water. And yes, more kale. He grumbled, of course, but what was he going to do? Climb up the fridge and argue with me? He still needed my help to get into bed. My rules, my house, my reign. Forever.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
https://phonesexcandy.com/cory