Case History 7: The Father Was Exactly Twice His Sexy Daughter'S Age

When Kathy O.'s psychiatrist suggested that she longed for a sexual affair with her father, she shouted, "But that's absurd."

"I don't think it's very absurd at all," the psychiatrist responded. "Your father's an attractive man he lives with you, you care for him like a wife does a husband and you have been unable to establish any relationships with other men which is the reason you entered treatment."

"But he's my father!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, he is."

Kathy was twenty-two years old when she entered psychiatric treatment. Her reasons were simple. She was unable to form relationships with men, could hardly talk to them because of the abnormal shyness that had been part of her since entering her teens. After high school, she made several attempts to get employment, but she was never able to go beyond the initial interview if it was a man she had to face. Finally, she gave up trying for a job altogether. Her mother had been dead since she was eleven. She fell into the pattern of keeping house for her father, a man of only forty-four who was rich, dynamic, a successful wholesale merchant, and very devoted to his daughter.

Kathy was at ease with her father. With him, she jabbered in conversation, was not shy, and even talked of the most intimate things, like her inability to communicate with other men. It was her father who suggested psychotherapy. Kathy entered it, and although demonstrating toward the psychiatrist the same shyness she had always known, she eventually was able to be free and talkative with him as she was with her own father.

Incest was a topic for psychiatric discussion for many months. Kathy became intrigued with the subject. True, it astounded her, made her fear herself, but still it was a topic that she hoped would resolve her problems. She centered all of her attention upon incest, both during the hours of therapy and during the many hours away from the analyst's couch. She began the habit of looking at her father while she entertained thoughts of incest. She found excuses to come upon her parent while he was in bed, or minus some of his clothing. She tried hard to investigate her true feelings while she was with him. And she even developed the custom of kissing him good-bye in the morning and hello at night. The kiss was never platonic. She kissed him like a lover, hard and full, and with her tongue clashing inside his mouth.

"Why am I doing that now?" she asked her psychiatrist.

"Why don't you tell me?" he queried.

"I don't know."

"Think about it a minute."

She did. Then she said, "Maybe I'm testing myself."

"In what way?"

"Testing myself to see if it really is a sexual attraction that I feel for my father to see if all the things about incest that we've been talking about are true or not."

"Well are they true?" the doctor asked.

She was silent.

"Well?" the doctor prompted again.

"I don't know. But a funny thing just happened when you asked me if it was true when you said the word 'true.' "

"What happened to you, Kathy?"

"I got a funny feeling." She paused, then lowered her hand and touched between her thighs. The motion was slow. She was lying on the analyst's couch. She brought her hand from where it had been above her head and slowly lowered it to the place at her thighs.

"Is that where you got a feeling, Kathy?" the therapist asked.

"Yes."

"What kind of a feeling was it?" he asked.

"Not 'was,' " she said. "I've still got it."

"What kind of a feeling is it?"

"A sexual feeling. I'm very hot in my cunt and it's like my heart's beating there. I feel very full there. And even as I'm telling you all this I keep feeling it and I guess this is horrible thinking about my father."

Kathy's sensations remained at her thighs long after she left her psychiatrist's office. There was a bloat there that seemed almost incapacitating. She had difficulty walking without a continual awareness of the sensations that brought moisture to her cunt lips, a moisture that was slowly spreading down her inner thighs.

The symptoms of sexual desire repeated themselves at every one of Kathy's next eight visits to her psychiatrist. At one of them, she remarked, "This is getting to be a part of me guess it means I go for my dad or you, one or the other or both of you, eh?"

The principle of transference is well known in psychiatric circles. Simply put, it is the transference or relaying of feelings to some person who is not the subject of the feelings. During any course of psychotherapy, it is common that a patient will usually direct feelings toward the psychiatrist that are meant for the patient's mother, father, brother or sister, some distant relative who has been influential on the person's life, or even an employer or business associate. So, it was not unique that Kathy should have made the above statement, that her feelings were mixed between father and therapist. Both men represented authority to her and Kathy subconsciously put them on a common level.

After nearly a year of psychiatric treatment, another threat to the resolution of Kathy's problems was presented. Her father began dating. The girl was only a few years older than Kathy. She was attractive. She was also very friendly and a gay companion for Kathy's father. Upon learning of the circumstances, Kathy burned with some fierce new inner feelings that tore at her being.

"So this girl of your father's has upset you," the therapist said after Kathy explained her new feelings.

"Yes."

"Why should she bother you? Your father is a young man by most standards. It is not unusual that he should want the companionship of a young woman."

"I'm afraid he's going to marry the girl," Kathy burst out.

"So...."

"And if he does, I'll be without him. I couldn't stand that! I can't be without the only man I can talk to or have anything to do with at all, except for you, and you're a professional I pay you our relationship cannot go on the rest of my life. And if I lost my father, I don't know what I'd do."

"Kathy, what you said about us is true," the psychiatrist stated. "A patient-doctor relationship may last for years, but it can never substitute for a normal relationship with other men."

Kathy felt more threatened and hopeless than ever. She left the doctor's office deeply despondent. Her head spun with all the aspects she and her therapist had discussed for months. Desperation clutched her. She felt on the brink of some dramatic event of her own making, some final move that would bring all of the things that bothered her together at the same time.

When she arrived home, it was late. The house seemed empty, but she soon discovered her father sitting alone in the dark in the study. She was surprised to see him. He seemed tired and low, as despondent as Kathy herself felt. Then he explained that he had had a fight with his girl friend. He was very unhappy over the circumstances.

"It'll probably be over with tomorrow," Kathy tried to comfort.

"Probably," he agreed.

The happiness that Kathy had felt at the news of the lovers' estrangement quickly died. A torrent of fear and threatening events formed in her mind and crushed her.

Kathy walked over to where her father sat in a chair, almost as if she had come to the end of some long, much-traveled and tired road of decision. She stood at her father's side, looking down at him for a moment. Then she said, "Poor daddy," stooped and kissed him hard upon the mouth. It was a very intimate, open-mouthed kiss, not the sort expected between father and daughter. But Kathy wanted desperately to prove something to her father to prove that she was a woman and to make him very much aware of her passionate feelings at that moment. The kiss was passionate, enduring.

The father answered his daughter's kiss with a sharp cry and two anxious hands grasping at her back and pulling her onto his lap. Their kiss lasted a long time. It was fervent. Their tongues clashed against each other in a loving duel. And the closeness of their bodies was a jam of sensation for Kathy as she felt her nipples harden at the same time that she felt the hardness of her father's cock, erect and pressing determinedly against her body.

"Oh, daddy," Kathy moaned. "I need you so. I've wanted you for so long. Oh, please, do it to me, please...."

Kathy's father was startled, but only for a moment. He pressed his daughter closer and whispered into her ear. "Kathy, you can't know how long I've wanted to to fuck you, darling. Oh, God, forgive me, but I've wanted it for so long, I thought I would go out of my mind. There have been times when I've come in my underpants from just thinking about it. Oh, darling, do you really want this?"

The silence that followed was broken only by the movement of lips upon other lips, kissing frantically in passion. Kathy broke away from her father's embrace long enough to say, "Yes, I want this very much. Daddy, I want you to fuck me very much. I want to feel your hard cock pushed deep into my cunt slot. I want to feel the gush of your cock juice splashing against my pussy walls. I want to be ripped apart by your love. Oh, daddy, please, fuck me, please!" Kathy's voice broke off as she trembled and grasped at her father wildly.

"Ah," moaned Kathy's father as he bent lower and unfastened his daughter's blouse and then placed one hand at the back of her bra and undid the clasps. He reached down and grasped one naked tit in his hand and kneaded firmly upon his daughter's naked flesh. He caressed and fondled and then brought his tongue upon the erect nipple to kiss and bite and draw upon the cherry nipple.

Kathy was silent while her father caressed at her naked tit flesh, but her fingers were not still. She brought them to the waistband of his trousers and loosened, tugged and then finally clasped that which she sought. Her father's prick was hard and throbbing in her palm and he groaned as she brought it forth to look at it with lust-filled eyes.

Father and daughter arranged themselves speedily and then began to fuck. They had only parted clothing, did not remove it entirely. And they both tried to act as if the event was not taking place, as if the words of the previous moments had never been uttered. They both felt as if they were stealing that few minutes' interlude from the entire world, from the past, the present, and the future.

It is very likely that the incestuous affair would have ended after a single encounter had not Kathy become so quickly addicted to fucking and various deviations. She was violent in her pursuit of her father, forced him to sexual encounters when he did not want them, even hinted at blackmail if he denied her the sex that she demanded.

She would often call her father at his office and say, "Now remember, daddy, this is the night we're going to fuck. I'm going to fuck with you until your prick is sore and then I'm going to eat your cock until you've lost all your come, and after that, you're going to get down with your lips at my cunt and you're going to lap and suck and kiss to get my juice. Oh, daddy, we'll have a ball tonight! Now, remember, hurry home. I'll be waiting for you."

Although Kathy's father may have been reluctant at first to continue with the incestuous relationship with his daughter, he eventually became as addicted to it as his own daughter had. But he feared being found out. He feared that his daughter would boast to someone about their lovemaking, and most of all he feared a possible pregnancy. He had arranged with a physician acquaintance to obtain some pills for Kathy, explaining that his girl friend needed them, but still the fear gnawed at his being. He could not rest easy with this relationship, but he also was unable to bring a halt to their incestuous actions.

Kathy reported the affair to her psychoanalyst immediately after it occurred. She sounded almost proud as she related the experience. And from that point onward, for many, many years, Kathy continued to dabble in incest even as she visited a therapist twice weekly to solve that very problem.

"It is little wonder that Kathy did not react to psychoanalysis," the doctor once stated. "Therapy to her was a way of having her cake and eating it, too. She went through the motions of resolving her problems by attendance at therapy hours and used this as an excuse to continue the incest toward which she had been emotionally, and almost irresolvably directed." Kathy's visits to her therapist became a routine of life for her, just as her incestuous lovemaking with her father had become an expected experience, one that she considered essential for her existence.