How My Yoni Massage Therapist Helped Me Play Out My Naughty Daddy Fantasy
I got to confess to my naughty daddy fantasy, when I found a local yoni massage therapist and created a bit of a working relationship with him and eventually felt safe enough. I told him the history of why I have an extremely taboo daddy daughter sexual fantasy.
We had a deep, in depth conversation about what I experienced as a child, and a teenager, and how feeling violated by my father’s sexual energy lead me to begin to have fantasies as a teenager about my father’s involvement in my sexuality. I told him about how it started out as fantasies about my father watching me in my sexuality, and then, the more that taboo feeling turned me on and fueled further fantasies, it turned into fantasies about my father touching me inappropriately, and eventually forcing himself on me.
I told my yoni massage therapist about how I fantasized about my father sneaking into my bedroom late at night, when I was a teenager, and touching me inappropriately in my sleep. I fantasized about him waking me that way, his fingers probing my body, his alcoholic breath in my ear telling me why he believed he should be able to touch me that way.
I told my yoni massage therapist that I wanted to experience the feeling of being violated that way, of having unwanted touch from my father forced upon me, and then having my body betray me by enjoying the sexual stimulation. I wanted the opportunity to act out my feelings of not wanting it, of being angry about it, feeling trapped and forced into it. I wanted a chance to let all of those feelings out of my body, while he touched me.
Do you have a naughty daddy fantasy?
When I felt like he had a solid grip on the naughty daddy fantasy scene I wanted to play out, we made a plan for him to help me recreate the sleeping violation by sneaking into my house and into my bedroom late at night. We set a date, and I looked forward to it with so much anticipation.
I left my front door unlocked on the night we planned, and went to bed. I wore a nightie, with nothing underneath it and tucked myself into bed. I let myself fall asleep, and waited for him to arrive.
The sound of him arriving woke me, but I stayed still and pretended to be undisturbed. I was laying on my back, one of my legs cocked to the side a bit with my knee up. When he walked into the room, he stood there for a moment and took the sight of me there sleeping in. He grabbed the top of my sheet and slowly peeled it down off my body.
He chuckled a little bit when he saw that my legs were open, and I wasn’t wearing any panties. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be sleeping still. I smelled alcohol on him, I had asked him to have a drink or two, whiskey, like my dad used to drink.
He fumbled around a bit, and pulled his pants off, putting them on a chair in the corner. I guess he trusted that I was sleeping pretty hard. With his naked cock out he came and sat on the bed, situating himself between my feet. He gently pushed my knee up further, widening the opening between my legs, and then he leaned his face into my pussy, and took a deep sniff.
Then he very softly and slowly extended out his tongue, and traced gentle little lines with his tongue around my labia, and up circling around my clit. He breathed his hot whiskey breath on my pussy, and I let out a little moan as my hips started rocking and I let him know that I was awake.
“What are you doing, Daddy??” I cried.
“Relax, baby. This is just how daddies are supposed to be able to enjoy a woman, and you are a little woman, now,” he said.
He put his hand down on my stomach, firmly holding me in place, and he shoved his face and tongue into my pussy, spending a moment eating me voraciously.
“Daddy, stop!!” I gasped.
“Ha,” he said, “Your words are asking me to stop, but your body is telling me to keep going. I’m gonna make you cum like no other boy can do for you. You’re going to get addicted to my tongue and my cock. Yes, you’re gonna play with daddy’s cock.”
Then he moved up along my body, pushing my upper body down with his weight, ignoring my protests, and he started rubbing the head of his cock all over the outside of my pussy, telling me how much he was entitled to get to use my pussy as much as he pleases.
“You think I don’t notice how you wear certain clothes because you want boys to look at you a certain way. You think I don’t see how your little nipples poke through your shirt, tantalizing all the men around you. You think I don’t see how your little ass hangs out of your shorts, inviting men to think about pounding it.”
He hissed all these things in my ear, covering me in his alcohol breath, while he rubbed his cock all over my pussy. I felt fully into the feeling of feeling violated, feeling forced, of it happening against my will, and yet, at the same time, my pussy gushing with fluid and my body screaming at me that I wanted to be penetrated by him.
He gave me an evil smirk and pointed out how my pussy was gushing all over his dick. “You do want this,” he scoffed, “You dirty little slut. You do want your father to fuck you. You want to feel my cock pounding you, using you for the most valuable thing you have to offer – your hot wet little pussy. Maybe I should use your tight little ass, too.”
My eyes bugged out of my head – “No!” I exclaimed. He threw his weight into my upper body, and then guided his hard dick, slowly, steadily, deep into my pussy – all while looking at me smugly, like he’d won. Like he was successfully taking something precious from me, claiming it for himself. He was taking my power.
I let myself protest loudly, crying, trying to push him off me. He grunted heavily, driving his shoulder into pinning my upper body, and he thrust his cock into me over and over, insistently.
“Your pussy is mine,” he said. “I get to fuck your pussy whenever I want. When I come in here at night for our regular meetings, you do not get to tell me no. You have to take it like the little slut that you are. Because I know you actually love it. I know you crave daddy’s cock. And if you try to stop me, I will tell your mother that I caught you touching your brother inappropriately. It would be so humiliating if word of that got out.”
I laid there, pinned, feeling all of my emotions swirling around me, telling him no, I didn’t like it, I didn’t want it, but at the same time, feeling a deep well of shame because I was being called out – the betrayal of my body showed that on some level, I did want this. On some level, I craved for my father to force me, to penetrate me with his cock. To use me for his own sexual satisfaction, like a toy that has to do his bidding. Threatening my reputation in order to receive my compliance.
I let myself cry while he fucked me, and he let my tears fuel his turn on, egging me on, letting me know that I could cry all I wanted to, that my tears and resistance just turned him on. That he knew it was all an act and that underneath it all, I was just a slut who craved cock and I would be lucky to get it on a nightly basis from him.
He fucked me with complete abandon, slamming into me as hard as he pleased, until he got to the point where he was going to cum. Then he pulled out of me and ejaculated all over my stomach and my boobs. He told me he was going to fully saturate me in his cum, marking his territory, so that no one else would try to fuck with me.
I continued exploring different facets of this fantasy on multiple visits with my yoni massage therapist. It became a very gratifying release for me, and I finally felt like I had a healthy outlet for all of those feelings I had been living with. This was a really powerful and therapeutic experience, that allowed me to release a lot of energy associated with sexual wounding.
It is something special to be able to trust someone in a more “professional” setting to hold this fantasy experience in safety. It allowed me to really let go and experience what I desired to fulfill of my naughty daddy fantasy.