this is no longer what it started out as

🔞sweden syndrome or something🔞

HUGE TW: S/A, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome

the bar was always fun, but everyone was always either too much of a freak or too little of one. every time you looked around and just wanted someone else to be in control they either asked you if you were ok every 5 seconds before they even put it in or they went too sloppy and too rough too fast.

going home alone once more, you gave a big stretch, hiking up your tank top and revealing the black thong you wore under your low rise shorts to someone you didn't know was even following you. he was quiet, skilled and deliberate with his movements and actions, heightening your anxiety with small steps on leaves and sticks to freak you out, only to stay silent and hidden. a few minutes later a handsome man with slicked back, brown salt and pepper hair, a pencil moustache and sideburns around 40, jogged up behind you.

"hey, you seem anxious, you alright?"

"i'm fine, ive just felt like someone's been following me and it's freaking me out," you sighed. you were getting a weird feeling about him, but you blamed it on the nerves of walking alone at night.

"here, my car is just that way, how about i drive you somewhere safe?"

"yeah, thank you," you smiled softly, following him to his well kept 1992 porsche.

"here doll, hop in," he smiled softly, opening the door for you.

you stayed still, the bad feeling getting to you.

"i uhm.. i think i'll just w-"

"no." he spun you around so his chest was flush to your back and held a cloth to your mouth, muffling your voice and making the world go black and fuzzy before you could scream.

when you woke up it was light out, probably midday. your whole body ached and your head felt like it was full of cotton wool. you were in a very pretty room, one that was definitely not yours, nor could it have belonged to anyone you knew. how had you ended up here and not remembered? you only had one drink..

then the memories flooded back. the man asking you to get into his car, the cloth..

"oh, you're awake, doll," he smiled, though there was an unreadable glint in his eye..

"what are you going to do to me?" you asked with a shaky voice, looking at him terrified. he juke-lunged for you to startle you and your hands went to cover your face, only for you to realize that the bed had clasps on all four corners, one attached to each wrist and ankle.

"well, when i gave you the chloroform you fell, and you poor thing, your legs and arms are dirty," he mock-pouted. "i think my little doll is in order for a bath, hm~?"

"i-"

"sht- good dolls don't speak, my darling"

you stayed quiet, hoping you'd be able to leave soon.

"now, are you going to be a good, pliant little doll or do i have to sedate you again?"

you almost spoke, but you didn't want to be punished so you stayed quiet and looked into his eyes, hoping they conveyed your obedience. he nodded and unclipped your restraints, that goddamn smirk still adorning his face.

"come now, doll, you're very dirty"

you followed him into a nice bathroom with blood red tiles and one of those baths with all the jets. he helped you to sit on the cold edge of the tub and let it fill with warm water while he rooted through the cabinets.

"hm.. orange? no.. rose.. no... ah, here we go," he popped open one of the small bottles of bubble bath he had and drizzled it in. it smelled like jasmine with a hint of something lemony. the bath was full now and he turned the water off.