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daddy daughter fantasy
daddy daughter fantasy

How My Yoni Massage Therapist Helped Me Play Out My Daddy Daughter Fantasy

It is not easy, as a woman, to admit that you have a daddy daughter sexual fantasy. It’s not easy to admit that sometimes your father somehow makes an appearance in association with your sexuality. It’s not easy to admit that sometimes your fantasies somehow involve him, even though you don’t want it.

It feels so wrong! To have a daddy daughter fantasy that is sexual is a really challenging thing to admit. It’s hard not to judge yourself. It feels like something is wrong with you, because your father keeps popping into your mind when you are doing something sexual. It feels hard to understand.

In my case, I started to become aware of my father’s sexuality when I was around eleven years old. He had a raging porn addiction, and would often look at it in public areas of the house, with no effort to preserve privacy. He would spend hours at a time, charged with his own sexual energy, and then he would take short breaks and interact with us, his children, and he would carry with him that sexual energy.

Even at such a young age, I knew that my father was nearly constantly thinking about sex because I could feel it in his energy. By the time I was 12, and had started to complain about the porn, my mother exposed me to all of the complexities of their dysfunctional sexual relationship and I became like her therapist.

My father was obsessed with feminine bodies needing to look a certain way, so he would make comments about my mother’s body, and my body, always encouraging us to shift our bodies toward this ideal. Even at a young age, I knew that my father was looking at me like a sex object. He was sending me signals that I only had value if I looked like something men want to fuck.

This is how he encouraged me to make myself more valuable to other men – “just do the work to make yourself hotter, he said. It’s your job to be sexually pleasing, because that is what makes you most valuable as a woman.”

My father’s sexuality, and sexual preferences, were so intrusive in my life, that I began to really feel violated by his sexual energy by the time I was 13. It was always a source of massive conflict between us. I felt violated every time I walked in on him in a room looking at pornography, with no mind for preserving the rest of the family’s sense of safety by choosing to do such a thing privately.

I began to feel violated every time my parent’s conflict would spill over onto me, and I would have to hear all of the details about my mother’s painful sexual experience with my father. I had it coming from both directions during the second decade of my childhood.

Do you have a naughty daddy daughter fantasy?

I started having fantasies about my father raping me when I was around 17. When it started, I would be having a fantasy about someone else, and then my father would make an unwelcome appearance in the fantasy, and, in the beginning, he would just watch me while I enjoyed myself with someone else in the fantasy. The fact that he was watching in the fantasy actually turned me on, and I had a much more pleasurable experience because of it.

When that started happening, I felt so much shame around it. It was so embarrassing that it was like my father’s energy was popping into my fantasies uninvited, and yet some part of me kind of seemed to like it. It felt so wrong. I knew it was fucked up, even at 17.

The wrongness of it kept turning me on, though, until it got to the point where I was having fantasies of my father taking advantage of me, like feeling me up in my sleep, touching my pussy, sticking a finger inside me, groping my teenage breasts. In my fantasies I would wake up and he would hold me down, and force me to lay there and let him touch me, and he would threaten to embarrass me and tell my mom that I did something inappropriate.

I fantasized about this violation evolving, and turning into him grooming me to be his sexual plaything in the middle of the night while my mother was asleep. He would wake in the wee hours of the morning, and sneak into my room, and wake me to suck on his cock, and let him eat my pussy. He had a sick fascination with “daddy being able to make his little girl cum” and I felt betrayed by my own body the way that he would use his tongue and his fingers to make me cum again and again.

He would sometimes shove a pillow on my face and pin me down while he made me cum, muffling the sound he was forcing from me.

The fantasy of being forced to experience pleasure, to be betrayed by my own body and to actually like receiving the sexual attention from my father on the physical level, mirrored the way that, even at a young age, interacting with my father’s sexual energy did strange things to my body. I was highly sexually charged, even as a young kid.

I used to sometimes spend hours in bed masturbating because of all the sexual energy coursing through my body. Looking back, I think it was my father’s raging sexual energy that was coursing through my young body, and all I knew how to do at the time was stimulate myself sexually on repeat, until I could relax.

My father’s sexual energy invaded my body from a very young age. In my late teens, his energy and his consciousness invaded my mind and my sexual fantasies. I started to crave his enactment of what I felt energetically. On some level, I wanted him to invade me. I wanted him to make me feel as helpless and powerless as I did all those years as a kid, experiencing such confusion around such potent, and inappropriate, sexual charge.

Unconsciously, I was craving the opportunity to actually be violated, so that I would actually have an opportunity to express all of those feelings of violation I had suppressed and had stored in my body from all those years of being lusted after.

Unconsciously, I was craving a relationship with my father in which he would manipulate me into serving his sexual whim. In which he derived sick pleasure from how inappropriate it is for me to service him sexually, and yet he was demanding I do exactly that. In which he was in my ear, every night, telling me exactly why he felt I deserve to be used that way, how he as my father deserves to take advantage of the most valuable part of my womanhood.

How he would tell me that he provided me everything, paid for everything, spoiled me with nice things, and the least I could do for his generosity is let him use my holes however he desired.

I fantasized about him convincing me that I did awful, slutty things with the boys my age, letting them see my skin, and my bouncy little boobs and ass, and letting them lust after me. He convinced me that I owed him my sexual loyalty, and if I was really going to be a good girl, and keep receiving all the beautiful things he gives me, that I would have to let him touch me, and use me, whenever he wants to.

I fantasized about him getting drunk, and angry, and spiteful, and coming into my bedroom around three and getting too rough. Holding me down, a pillow over my head, gripping at my hips and ass too tight, giving me finger shaped bruises, while slamming his cock into my ass – hissing in my ear that this was my punishment for what I wore to school that day, and that he could see how all the boys were looking at me, and if I really wanted to receive attention like that, I could always find it right here at home. He promised he would give it to me extra good.

So, needless to say, these fantasies are dark, and depraved, and not easy to acknowledge having. And finding someone to act them out with is also not easy. It requires a lot of trust and safety, to even tell someone about these fantasies, let alone engage in playing them out with someone to help process what lies underneath them. It’s not exactly a “pretty” scene.

That’s why I was so excited when I found a local yoni massage therapist who advertised that he was open to providing sexual fantasy fulfillment as a sexual surrogate. I thought he might have experience with these kind of fantasies, and it was a good chance he wouldn’t judge me for having them. That was what he promised on his site, anyway, a judgment-free zone.

I shared all of this history with him in an in depth conversation about my fantasy, and I will write a separate piece about what the experience was like of actually playing out my fantasy, and getting to express what had been trapped inside me. Ultimately, I am so glad I asked him to help me play out my daddy daughter fantasy.

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