Porn stories stockholm syndrom

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He watches me bathe every night. My alone-time is limited now ever since I cut myself badly with a razor. I hoped it would be enough to take me to the hospital, that he would freak out, but I was wrong. He stands against the counter with his arms crossed and his eyes hooded. The steam from the tub mists the bathroom and his black clothes are imposing in the fog. Someone else would assume he is aloof, disinterested. Maybe even bored. But I know he absorbs every move I make. I could tease him. Play with my nipples. Make him as uncomfortable as he makes me.

Still I know, just know, it affects him. He le the way back into my bedroom. Or my cell, as I think of it. Sometimes I still give him a fight. I kick him in the shin, or stab him with a pen. An elbow to the gut is always fun. Nothing ends up affecting him, however, and I only end up losing privileges. I have been held hostage for about a month now—give or take a few weeks.

Dad is an important politician; my kidnappers want to send a message. Of course my main captor reveals his face to me every day for memorization. My hands scurry to pull my panties up, toss my nightie on. He stomps into the bathroom, collecting any and Porn stories stockholm syndrom dangerous items I could possibly use to harm myself. When he comes back out, he stops for a moment to watch me untangle the knots from my hair.

This tension crackles between us. I reflect on how sick I am. I get excited just by his eyes on my body. When he traces my curves with those stone-cold blue eyes, waves of arousal liquify me. I crave him almost as much as I despise him. That when he touches me, every cell in my body hums with electricity. My days are dangerous and somehow unpredictable, even though I end up doing the same thing for a week. He must be as horrified as I am. Very rarely do our bodies make accidental contact. Who is this man? I can never figure it out.

Yet I sense that powerful brutality lurking beneath his benign facade; a brutality I instinctively know I must evade. Thinking about all of this has renewed my fear. How macabre this little pantomime of ours is—he all but tucks me into bed, his little prisoner. I lose privacy privileges again a few days later. I smashed the mirror in the bathroom and cut a wrist with a shard. He catalogues the immense flow of blood flowing from my wrist, the puddle at my feet, the paleness of my face.

He leaves the room only to return a minute later with a first-aid kit. I lay out to rest and he vanishes. His cool hand touches my forehead. Then I feel him poking around my wound. One day he brings me chocolate ice cream. He runs a hand over his face. It will be up to you Porn stories stockholm syndrom you get home. I would hate to have to come visit you and make my point.

Perhaps he re the melancholy in my face because a sardonic grin drapes itself across his face. He stands, apparently preparing to leave, and I give up pretending.

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I take three huge steps toward him, tossing the ice cream on the floor in a dramatic fashion. Our noses meet and our breath mingles. It would be so easy to kiss him right now. But he cuts me off with a hand to my throat. Again he looks astounded.

All I need is for you to tell your father I raped you. He turns his back on me and makes for the door. Something flares in me and I want to engulf him in the flames, too. He took a month from me. I catch his lips with mine somehow. It takes a few minutes for him to relax. His arms wrap around me and he takes over our kiss. His mouth unlocks from mine so that he can moan.

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His eyes are Porn stories stockholm syndrom on me, watching me watching him lose control. Before I can get too comfortable basking in my fascination, he half-lifts me and throws me onto the bed. My stomach jumps and the reality of the situation finally settles in my chest. Never, ever have I experienced something like this. He makes quick work of his pants. The sound of his zipper slipping down is more than enough to get me wet. His body falls upon mine, and his hungry hands bunch up my nightie until my breasts are bared in the cool air. His mouth latches on to one nipple and then the next with an almost frightening urgency.

I am desperate to taste him but I know neither of us have the patience. My thoughts are confirmed when he pushes my panties to the side and stuffs two fingers inside me. Everything is slick and easy. I pant into his face before forcing a kiss onto him, unable to be without his taste for long. Another finger slips in and I cry out. Then his fingers are gone and his meaty cock is thrusting against my pussy, thrusting against my clit. Like a barbarian, he bites my breast and pulls my hips closer to him by a violent grip of my ass.

He wants to make me lose my mind as much as I want the same for him. This is fucking, primitive and fierce, and I never want to do it any other way again. The urge to come is sudden and I quickly lose any tenuous grip of control I had. My body shudders.

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Muscles tighten and release. My cunt grips him like a wet fist, sucking him in with the incredible force of my orgasm. Then I feel him grow bigger and harder inside of me. His cock inflates with cum until it spills over and into me.

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He grunts with every pulse. As fast as we came together, we pull apart. He collapses beside me. My body is still hungry and thrumming for more contact. I want him inside again, his pelvis rubbing against my clit. My head turns on my pillow so I can face him. As if this is commonplace for us, my hand reflexively reaches out to stroke his stomach. I tell him all about my life. The words spill out of me unbidden and uncontrolled.

He listens to every word and gives himself away when he reaches out to me. After a while I tell him about how I can stay with him. How I will. I look back at him and find him asleep. How vulnerable he looks when he gives himself a break. My fingers trail through his hair, over his forehead, down the slope of his perfectly pointed nose, across those soft lips. I give him an impulsive kiss and he murmurs in his sleep. His snore is my only response. Total 0 votes. Keywords abduction captor crazy dubious consent fantasy forbidden kidnapped stockholm syndrome twisted. Ruth and Her Daughter.

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Porn stories stockholm syndrom

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Stockholm Syndrome