About Stockholm Syndrome Novels & Stories

She interrupted. "You are doing it again Miss Freya, you are defending your abuser, the fact remains that you are a victim, and he forces you to stay in a place you clearly don't want to. He forces you and you developed a coping mechanism to deny yourself the reality of the fact that you were a victim, you adjusted and try to find some peace, he manipulated your emotions in favour of what he wanted. That is abuse too Miss Freya, and you are a victim suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, it's not love!" She declared and I sat there staring at her dumbly and for the first time ever, I started to question everything. . . . TBC

When I used to be a nerd I'd read romantic novels I always thought it's funny how the main character just seems to fall in love in one day. I always thought love was a day by day process I never thought I'd fall in love like this. With the arrogant bastard that bought me from my parents. My first thought was I had Stockholm syndrome which I still think is the reason I even gave Adrian a chance but now I'm just crazy for living this bastard... ................ (Stockholm Syndrome is A psychological condition in which a hostage emotionally bonds to his or her captor) ................. Jason's stupid plan worked and Adrian has been nothing but simply marvelous with me. He calls me his Queen, Pr

Is this what doctors’ call Stockholm syndrome? It must be because I’m sure that I hate the man that is looking at me and I want to escape him and this prison. Other times like this when he shows me his soft sweet side, I want to talk to him; I want to understand him more and get closer. And the thought of escaping seems stupid. “It is my fault really; I guess I was lost in thought or maybe a little sleepy. But I think I can help you with Roma’s problem. I didn’t finish my college yet, but I can help you with your appointments and organize the work for you.”

Maybe I was developing Stockholm Syndrome. The latter I doubted, simply because I continued to be scared of and hate the man. Was some good, rough sex before I died such a bad thing to enjoy? There was a lot of certainty that he was going to kill me if I couldn’t escape—was it really so bad to not be absolutely miserable before I died? Was I supposed to be nothing but a helpless pool of woman, cowering from him, giving him every bit of power out of fear for what I already knew he was going to do?

My desire for human contact brought me to this point. Two words often circulated in my mind but I refused to used them for my condition. Stockholm Syndrome. A part of me knew what I had for my husband wasn’t real. And I wanted to kill that part. This was real life. Not a movie or a novel. This was real. I was real. He was real. Our connection was real. I didn’t know why I was still alive. If any other person were in my place, they would have killed themselves so why wasn’t I dead?

My stomach twists painfully with the admission. “It has to be Stockholm Syndrome,” Raya responds, her voice low so the people sitting around us don’t overhear. “It would explain everything. You said this guy was giving you food and water, and even spending time in your room. It would make sense that you’ve developed some sort of attachment to him for keeping you alive.” I ponder her words. Stockholm Syndrome? I never thought that could actually happen. Because what person would form a connection with someone who kidnapped them and held them captive? It could explain everything I’ve been feeling since I was rescued, though. And why I had sex with him.

Even so she was taking more than that. On top of that, my wolf caused havoc within me. He didn't appreciate me returning Kathrine's desires. He regarded her as a horny teenager who read lots of books and ensnared in fantasies she weaved over the time. For him, whatever was happening between us was the outcome of Stockholm Syndrome.