That Stockholm Syndrome thing. It’s crazy. I’m crazy. I’m fucked up in my head. He would hurt me badly, and then bring me a soda or something. A...d I’d be grateful to him. He’d ask me to kiss the ass of the massive dragon tattoo on his chest, and I’d be happy to do that for him. I was grateful, for fuck’s sake! Towards the end he would tell me to do things ... stupid or nasty things ... and I found myself wanting to do them. I wanted to please him – which horrifies me more than anything. I can’t. She nervously openedthe door and walked into the brightly lit office. As she stepped in, shewas greeted by her boss, who was sitting in her big leather chair behinda mahogany desk."Matthew, this would be the second time you've visited my office in thepast few months. For the exact same reason," her boss said in a monotonevoice. "I'm starting to think you enjoy being an expecting mother."Matthew blushed, feeling rather embarrassed that she was back in herboss's office for the very same incident. More

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