The Stockholm syndrome
The victim's affection for the gangster
The phenomenon, that victims often show solidarity with or even identify with their tormentors, was first described by the American psychiatrist Frank Ochberg.
Stockholm syndrome is named after a bank robbery in the Swedish capital in the year 1973, where a victim felt affection for his hostage-taker. The victims of Stockholm syndrome sometimes even feel love for the perpetrator. And that's exactly how it was for me.
I am Magnus, 52 years old and run a family business.
Like every Thursday evening, I went by car to jog in a forest near Munich.
Shortly after I started running, it started to rain and the forest floor became muddy with every minute. I enjoyed the fresh forest air and I met no other people at all.
It was getting dark, when I came back to the forest parking lot after my run. Luckily it had stopped raining and so I started to stretch in front of my car as usual. I did my stretching exercises when I registered a reflection in my car window and heard a noise behind me.
I was about to turn around, but it was already too late. I was knocked out with a precise thump on the back of my head.
I do not know, how long I was passed out. Whether only minutes or hours or what happened to me during this time.
When I woke up and looked at the most beautiful green eyes, it happened to me immediately.
Only then did I notice the balaclava and the lady's skintight leather outfit.
I stuttered where I was and what had happened. With a cheeky grin, the lady in leather explained something to me. But her words echoed past me. A breath of warm air brushed my ear and caused the hairs on the back of my neck, to straighten up. My eyes wandered down from her green eyes and stayed on the bright red lips, of the absolutely unknown to me. Her lascivious lips moved, when she held a white cloth with her leather glove over my nose and mouth and I lost consciousness again.
When I slowly came to my senses, I felt, that my limbs were asleep, because I was tied up and my mouth hurt too, because I was also gagged.
I was alone and defenseless. I shivered at the thought of my masked hostage-taker. not a cold shiver, but a hot one!
My hostage-taker totally drove me crazy. I felt, that I had an erection.
Then suddenly the door opened and I realized, that I was in a van.
My hostage-taker switched on the light and looked at my erection with a sincere smile, that stood out clearly through my sports pants. She just sat on my best piece in her leather outfit and looked deep into my eyes. She looked threatening. The kidnapper murmured in my ear, that she has a hold over me. This sentence was hardly uttered, she grabbed me by the balls gently but tight enough. A startled sound crept out of my throat.
My kidnapper explained, that she was keen on my valuable watch collection and my precious metals. She particularly emphasized the word "keen".
With the other hand she stroked my face and freed me from my gag, then her hand went to her neck. She squeezed gently. Now she had me fully under control with both hands.
My blood was boiling and she whispered to me: "You are my horny money hostage and I am your money-hungry gangster bride." It totally brought me into ecstasy. I tried to nod.
One hand was still on the throat, the other on my crown jewels. Then she squeezed harder with both hands, that made me gasp for joy. The gangster bride made me clearly understand, that this is a hopeless situation, in which I am and that she always gets what she wants.
It felt like minutes, but it must have been hours.
Then we drove to my home. My hands were handcuffed and I gave her what my hostage-taker wanted. After she had my valuables, she threatened me with the words: "If you ever say a single word to anyone about this…“. She ran her finger along her throat.
It was an absolutely sensational experience, that you can really only wish everyone.
Since then, I've been dreaming of my hostage-taking and my beautiful kidnapper in leather at night.
I don't want anything more, than being attacked again by my hostage-taker and finally being allowed to look into her face. Is the Stockholm syndrome curable?