Go out and try to confront your daughter

You walk of the private vip room. You didn't want to sleep with Liya. She's incredibly hot, but you couldn't do that to Ava. You move toward the bar trying to find Elsa. But no luck as a familiar man step up to you.

"John. John Stevenson. What a nice surprise. I'm sorry, but I didn't recognize you in the dark. I never knew you came to places like this." He said. "Wait a minute. Wasn't that your daughter. Wow. I don't know what to say, haha. She is a real looker." You didn't watch your daughter strip, not wanting to see her degrade her body for a few cheap bucks.

You said. "I was hoping to speak to her about this." You look a bit embarrassed, happy not to see Elsa on stage or working the floor.

"Yeah, it's a shock, huh. I would love to fuck her and show her how a real man does it. But I'm a happily married man, you know. Just blowing off a little steam, you know. But I can see you're a little pissed off. I would be too if my daughter was a stripper."

You nod. "Yeah. Thanks, Dave. Have a nice evening." You sold this asshole a house and now he taunting you a bit. You wanted to punch him out cold, but couldn't if you wanted to get your daughter out of here.

"Yeah. Take care, John." Dave said. "I might give our little Cassidy a little spin." His jest is fucking with your head.

You went over to the door where the strippers walked out to join the floor. Trying to beat all the perverts and old men that just saw your daughter's pussy. The red lights and strippers hitting your eyes as you try to get in.

A burly security guard stood in front of the door. "Whoa, hold up, sir."

"I need to talk to my daughter. Please move." You said.

"Look. I can't let anybody in the dressing room without permission from management."

"My daughter is Elsa. I know this is weird, but I really need to talk with her."

The security guard nods. "okay Elsa. Dad's here." He yelled into the back.

Elsa walks out in the schoolgirl uniform with no underwear. Your eyes are on her beautiful body. "Dad. I'm sorry, but why are you here?"

"Come on, let's talk about this in the car." You said.

Elsa follows you out, and you can tell that she's a little scared. You open the door for her. You hop into the driver's seat. Your heart is racing, and you're very angry.

"Dad. Please don't yell." Elsa said. Your youngest daughter's words calm your mind, but your heart still beats at the same pace. "I know this looks bad. I just wanted a job."

"And why couldn't you tell me."

"It's not that bad. I can't get a job, and I had to have something, dad." Elsa said. "Working at Taco Bell for 12 dollars an hour isn't cutting it. I get paid real good money here."