I only meant to show parental concern when I told my daughter her skirt was so short she should wear a bra, but she just brushed me off like I was annoying. Seeing her so exposed, I can't help but feel the urge to claim her as mine alone—to protect her from the lustful eyes of other men. Through the sheer fabric of her skirt, I can make out the delicate outline of her cute nipples. The thought of her revealing such an intimate sight to anyone else becomes unbearable; I want her most private, special self to be seen by me and only me. Bit by bit, my feelings as a father begin to blur into something more primal, more masculine.