This story is completely fictional.
Dads are supposed to be protective of their daughters. The stereotype is you wait in the living room when she has her first date and scare the holy hell out of the boy, insuring she’ll be safe and “virtuous” when she comes home. You set curfews and ask people out in the community to keep an eye out for the couple and make sure everything’s safe for your daughter. My own experience has been somewhat different. Oh, I want my daughter safe, and I’d do anything to protect her. But keeping her “virtuous” – that’s a very different matter.
Before you get the wrong idea you should know, I’m not a molester. I’ve never touched my daughter inappropriately or asked her to touch me. I’ve never talked dirty to her or made a pass or made her feel uncomfortable in any way. No one has a more protected, peaceful life than my daughter. And it shows in who she’s become. She’s a straight-A student, president of the student council, and a cheerleader. For her sixteenth birthday last month, we gave her a car. Nothing extravagant, but nice enough. All in all, she has nothing to complain about in her life.