She was just an adventurous girl from rural eastern Ohio.......(read on)
Stockholm Syndrome (or Capture-Bonding) is a paradoxical psychological phenomenon wherein a positive bond between hostage and captor occurs that appears irrational in light of the frightening ordeal endured by the victims. In essence, eventually, the hostage views the perpetrator as giving life by simply not taking it. Apparently, a strong emotional bond develops between persons who share these life-threatening experiences.
1) A captive is stripped of their freedom, free will and all control
2) Captor threatens death or abuse, though actual physical abuse need not be experienced for the bond to form.
3) The captor shows kindness to the captive, and a lack of abuse can be perceived as kindness.
She was just an adventurous girl from rural eastern Ohio. 22 years old and fresh out of Harvard with a degree in economics and a minor in Mandarin Chinese. A job at Goldman Sachs Shanghai waited for her in the fall, but first she wanted to do something fun and crazy for the first time in her life. A summer backpack trip with her best friend through Eastern Europe and the Baltics seemed perfect for the girl who never did anything fun but work and study.
After convincing her best friend to travel with her, they trekked, traveled and saw the sights in this gritty, hard scrabble part of the world. The trip went splendid and as their time to leave grew close, they had one more adventure. A river cruise from the Latvia border with Belarus to Riga on the coast and a flight out. However heavy rains were swelling the river. In a rush to get on board, Jenna’s friend went ahead to get tickets and get their luggage on board. Jenna rushed to buy some handmade souvenirs. But by the time she was finished, the rickety old bridge to the far side of the river was closed due to the rushing water and the only other bridges were 20 miles in either direction. So she grabbed a bus to the next bridge and hoped she could reunite with her friend on the other side.
Finally at the distant bridge, she passed thru the shack that represented the border control from Latvia to Belarus. As the solitary border agent reviewed her passport and documents, she also caught him practically undressing her with his eyes. “Miss, what brings you to this remote part of the world?”, “I’m trying to reunite with my friend back at bridge crossing 20 miles away, which was closed due to the river levels”, “hopefully she is smart enough to just wait there for me”. “So she doesn’t know where you are?”, “Miss this is not a very safe place to travel alone”. As he searched her day pack, he pulled out a small block of something wrapped in plastic which she had never seen before. “Miss, put your hands behind your back, you are under arrest for drug trafficking”. At first she thought it was a joke, but then as he bent her over the table and cuffed her, she knew something had gone terribly wrong.
After a long ride in the border agent’s truck, they came to what looked like was a small abandoned prison. The agent put her in a dank cell and left her alone for hours. When he returned she pleaded that she wasn’t a drug dealer and someone must have put that in her backpack. The agent explained that of course she wasn’t a dealer, he had planted the drugs on her. And this isn’t an actual prison, it is his remote property where he takes young women for his pleasure. The Agent told her, “give up all hope you worthless slut, you will probably be dead in a month depending on how well you perform”. Her worst fears had come true and the blood drained out of her face as she started to faint. She snapped awake as he backhanded her across the face. The Agent beat her that first night mercilessly, dragging her around by her hair on the filthy floor, and whipping her with his worn leather belt. When she passed out, he threw buckets of cold water on her. After a few hours, he raped her ass and left her to sleep shackled on the cold floor. After maybe 10 minutes of sleep, the Agent blasted sounds of babies crying through loud speakers all night. Jenna slept none that night, and the crying sounds triggered a primal distress in her, like all humans, that sent her into a constant, near-manic state.
The beatings and anal rape continued for days. She ate off the ground with her mouth just like an animal, her hands shackled behind her back. The Agent told her that she would spend the rest of her short life here, that she should give up all hope and give in to her true nature, that she was nothing but a servant, only good for the pleasure of men. He would often piss in her food or ejaculate on it. Her hunger was unbearable, and after a while she ate it without thought.
The Agent said that she would find her true calling as a slave more satisfying than all the success she had found in her previous life. Deep down her true nature was to please. And all her accomplishments were not attained because she wanted them, but instead she was just doing what others expected of her. She was just obeying her family and friends and society’s desire for her to be successful. Deep down she never wanted it, the achievements were empty to her, she only wanted to please those around her.
He left her alone for long stretches of time, and the loneliness and isolation were some of the worst tortures. After time she would crave any human contact, even if it was just the Agent abusing her. At least she could feel warm skin against hers instead of the cold concrete floor.
When the Agent actually began demanding things, she was already so broken it was almost effortless for her to comply. She had to begin cleaning her cell and herself. The water to the sink and toilet were turned on. She had to recite verses over and over again, “I am a slave, my only purpose is serve and pleasure my Master, my only need is to please.” “The fact that I am in this situation is proof that I am inferior and easily outsmarted and only purpose is to obey”. She was taught positions to hold and to keep her eyes down. She didn’t really believe any of this, she was a highly intelligent woman with significant accomplishments. But she wasn’t stupid, by faking and complying, the beatings eased off. And while she thought she was outsmarting the Agent, the repetition of the chants were slowing sinking in. Even though she was tightly confined, she started to feel more free in a strange way. No more hustle to keep up with other upwardly mobile professionals with the latest material goods, which always felt uneasy for her. No need to worry about the latest fashions, she had been naked since the day she got here. No cell phones, no email, no depressing news. But then she would shake herself out of the day dreaming and plot her escape.
Soon, the beatings slowed but the Agent did other bizarre things to her. He would repeatedly hold her head under water until she would renounce her former life, and proclaim she was a mindless slave good only for her three holes. He would hold a propane torch to her inner thighs until she would admit she was a slut, and must keep her legs spread at all times. Much of this was video-taped. He told her that he sent these video tapes to her family, and imagine the shame she would feel if she even tried to escape and go home. The Agent told her a good slave will hold still like her Master commands. He would make her stand in the yard holding various pieces of fruit in her hands, on her head, and clenched between her legs as he used them for target practice. She learned quickly to obey, for the thought of being shot was not a pleasant one. Luckily the Gent was a crack shot, and she even got to eat the destroyed fruit, but off the ground with her mouth of course. Again, after a few repetitions her fear of target practice subsided, and her trust in the Agent built.
The Agent knew from Jenna’s journal he found in her backpack that she was a huge dog lover. So one day he let Jenna wear clothes for the first time and brought in a large German Shepherd to her cell. Jenna was so excited, she got to pet the dog and let it lick her face as she gave it praise. It was sheer joy to have the company of a beautiful pet again. A few days later, the Agent showed her a video tape. It was scenes from her playing with the dog and letting it lick her face and her telling it she loved it…just you typically overly happy dog owner stuff. But then there was scenes spliced in of the dog humping a girl on all fours that looked a lot like Jenna. She wearing the same clothes the Agent had given her, and even had a similar birthmark on the back of her thigh, which must have been faked. Either way, the video was spliced with Jenna hugging the dog and the other girl getting fucked by it, and make to look like it was Jenna the whole time. And it worked, Jenna’s last bit of hope drained away as the Agent told her that this video too was sent home to her friends and family. He told her to imagine their reaction to this video, which looked like she was willfully letting this dog violate her and loving it. Her thoughts of escape dwindled by the day.
One night the Agent came to her cell, he had been drinking. He whipped her until she screamed in pain and cried and then he whipped her more. When she was finally reduced to a pile of raw flesh just sobbing and whimpering away, he laid on top of her and began to kiss her wet tears away. And for the first time since she got there, he rammed his cock inside her vagina. It was explosive in her mind. She could not control her own body and her mind was a buzz of lust and a burning need to please the Agent. “Be a good girl and hold still”, he commanded. She hadn’t had an orgasm since she got there and for some reason the beatings and whippings kept making her wet. Jenna held him tight and wrapped her legs around him. She begged him to fuck her like the slut she was, and she would do anything to pleasure him. He held her down by grabbing handfuls of her hair, holding her throat and choking her. She orgasmed from penetration alone, which had never happened before.
She fell asleep on his chest, his seed dripping down her thighs, wondering if this was a new chapter in her story. Indeed it was, for the Agent didn’t visit her cell for a few days. And during those days she strangely began to miss his abuse. He did arrive in the evening on the third day, around his usual time. But instead rough abuse, she got a moderate spanking, and then the Agent brought in a real meal for the first time. She got to eat with silverware, on a table. He also brought her a simple dress to wear.
Up to that point her reluctance to escape was due to the shame she would feel from the videos the Agent sent home and how she had acted, even though she was largely forced. But now she didn’t want to escape because she loved her new life. Though the Agent could have showed her abuse, he now showed a more balanced approach. Yes there were whippings and plenty of very rough handling. But the Agent must love her immensely for taking the risk of training her and the amount of time he spends on her was exorbitant. He has protected me from society that has tried to exploit me and use me for profit. Friends, family and society…F.F.S, FFer’S she called them. The wanted nothing but for her to conform to “their” ways. They were all miserable by denying their carnal desires and they wanted her miserable as well she thought.
She began to work at being a good slave just as hard as all her previous accomplishments. Soon the Agent took her on trips through the countryside, and though she was never out of his sight, Jenna had no thoughts of escape. She felt free and loved and useful. She met his friends, and even though he let them use her, she knew how special she was to him. Jenna tried her hardest to please them and be a good girl for the Agent. And while he used other women, she was his true love as he always kept her in his bed.
