Jim's Story
Copyright© 2025 by Kevin Jay
Chapter 1: She Arrives
BDSM Story: Chapter 1: She Arrives - Jim has lived alone for many years. For more years than he cares to remember. The past is closed to him, too painful for him to go there. Then a friend from that time contacts him and asks for a favour. Could Jim take someone in for him? Jim is reluctant, but his friend is desperate, so Jim agrees. Then she arrives.
Caution: This BDSM Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual NonConsensual Slavery Fiction BDSM DomSub MaleDom Light Bond
He waited on the platform of the train station; the display board showed the train was on time. Good. It was cold enough on that platform, and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he needed to. If anyone had looked at him, they’d probably have thought him “distracted”. He had good reason to be distracted. Events had taken such a strange turn in the last few days. He looked along the platform. People in formal clothes on their way to business meetings, students with huge backpacks, and the odd family group heading home after a day out, visiting family for the festive season or just shopping.
The overhead wires started to hum gently, and the train appeared around the curve, slowing down gradually and stopping on its mark. The doors pinged their warning signal, popped out from the side of the carriage and slid open. The passengers on the platform crowded around the open doors, barely leaving enough room for the alighting passengers who had started to step down from the train. He scanned the disembarking passengers, unsure of what he was looking for.
And then she was there. Charlie had been right. He couldn’t have missed her. Short and skinny with a flight case on wheels. Petite, he supposed the modern word was, with a reddish tint to her long hair. She wore an overcoat and furry boots to ward off the winter chill. He walked up to her. “Antelope,” he said. The code word. She looked up at him, smiled a small, sad, nervous smile, and said, “Sodium.” The correct response. Fiery but light. Charlie had always loved chemistry at school and must have found it funny. He nodded, smiled back and kissed her on the cheek. “Give me your case,” he said, and she handed it over to him. “Let’s go.”
He walked back to the steps, towing her case, and she followed. No more words were exchanged. He wondered if she felt as awkward as he did. He reached the top of the steps down to the street level from this high-level platform, stowed the case’s handle and picked it up. Goodness me, she travelled light. He walked down the steps and turned right at the bottom, taking the shortcut past the railway police station and out to the car park. She stayed by him, walking slightly behind and rather closer than he’d expected. And she seemed tense. Charlie had been right again. She didn’t have much confidence when out and about.
They moved through the car park until they reached his car. No one would have given them a second look; perhaps a father collecting his grown-up daughter, home for the festive season. He unlocked the car, opened the passenger seat, and she stepped in. She just sat there, so he reached across and fastened the seat belt for her. She seemed to relax a little. She smiled her sad smile at him again.
They pulled out into the evening traffic and the gloom. The sun set early at this time of year, and night came on quickly. She seemed lost in her thoughts. Not surprising, he thought. It was almost certainly more surreal for her than it was for him. The traffic thinned as they made their way out of town, and by the time they’d arrived at his house, it was dark. They pulled up to his front door. “Home!” he said brightly, and then instantly regretted it. He could see the sadness come back to her face. But, whether either or both of them liked it, home for both of them it was. At least for the time being.
She sat in the seat until he’d walked around to open the door, and then she stepped out as he signalled her to do so. He collected her case from the back seat. “Let’s go”, he said, walking to the front door. She followed, again slightly too closely for his comfort. He unlocked the front door and stepped into the house; she followed him closely. He pushed the door closed and turned to her. She reached inside her coat, took out an envelope and held it out for him. Jim took it and put it on a low table. He unbuttoned his coat, took it off and hung it on the coat stand behind the door. He parked her case against the wall, picked up the envelope and then headed across the hallway and through the door into the lounge. He’d got most of the way across that room before he realised that she wasn’t following him. He popped his head out of the lounge door. She was still standing where he’d left her, head downcast. “Come on!” he said, and she looked up and hurried after him.
“Sit down,” he told her when she’d entered the lounge and gestured at one of the easy chairs which framed the fireplace. She sat down, and he took a seat in the chair opposite.
Jim slit open the envelope and took out the few sheets of paper inside. He held them up and started to read. It took him a couple of minutes to read the letter. She watched his face while he read; watched him shake his head a couple of times; watched his jaw drop once; watched him glance up at her, then back to his reading. And then he was finished.
“Well, young lady,” Jim said. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I’ve been sent to you,” she replied simply.
Jim reflected on her reply. She clearly didn’t know why she was here. Hell, he didn’t even know why she was here, even after reading the letter from Charlie and the strange phone calls over the previous days. He looked back at the letter and quickly scanned it. The letter conveyed something about the young woman standing before him. But not her name. And Charlie hadn’t mentioned it on the phone either.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh brother,” Jim thought, “this is going to be complicated!” “You will have to have a name,” he told her, and quickly scanned around the room for inspiration. It was decked out for Christmas. The tree stood in the corner, adorned with wooden and glass decorations, candle-effect lights, and a star on top. The room was garlanded with old-fashioned streamers. “Natalie,” he said. “I will call you Natalie, at least until we can sort out who you really are.”
She smiled her small, sad smile again.
“Do you want something to eat or drink?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“OK. Let’s rephrase that. If I make you some supper, will you eat and drink it?”
“Yes.”
“What would you like?”
“I don’t know.”
Jim shook his head. He would have to get used to asking questions in a different way for the next few days.
“If I make some toast and hot chocolate, will you try that?”
“Yes.”
“Wait here until I get back,” he told her and then headed out of the lounge and towards the kitchen. As he steamed the milk for the hot chocolate, he reflected that he probably needn’t have said that. She’d have stayed where she was without being told.
He walked back into the lounge with a tray. Two plates, each with toast and butter. Two mugs, each with milky hot chocolate. He thought she might need something to help her sleep. She was still there, in the chair by the fire, but now with her knees tucked up under her chin. Making herself as small as possible, he thought. He pulled out a small table and set the tray down on it. “Here you are,” he said to her, “Eat. Drink.” She stirred, sat up and reached for the toast and hot chocolate.
“Time to talk,” he said to her, and she tilted her head to one side, listening. “I’ll go first.”
“My name’s Jim Burney.” He paused. “You can call me Jim.” He thought he’d better add that. “I knew Cha ... ahh ... the man you last stayed with. I knew him very well at one time. He was the best man at my wedding. But we’ve not seen or spoken to each other in, oh, twenty years now. Until two days ago, when he called me and asked me to look after you.”
She was sipping the hot chocolate, looking directly at him.
“Now tell me about yourself.”
“My name is Natalie,” she said, “and I’m yours.” She started to sip her hot chocolate again.
“Is that it?” Jim asked.
“Yes, Jim,” she said simply.
“OK ... Well, finish your supper, but no need to rush.” He picked up Charlie’s letter again and started to read it. Properly this time, not just the quick scan he’d given it earlier. By the time he’d read it, she’d finished her drink, and the plate had just toast crumbs on it.
“Right,” he said. “I need to organise some things, and you probably need to sleep”. Charlie had told him she wasn’t used to being out in the wide world and certainly not on her own. She’d probably had a very stressful day in her own way. He stood up and pocketed Charlie’s letter. “Come with me,” he said and headed back for the hall. She followed.
Out in the hall, he turned back to her. “Let’s have your coat,” he said. “You can’t sleep in that.” She unbuttoned the overcoat, shrugged it off her shoulders and handed it to him. Jim’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. She had no clothes on underneath. He should have known, really, but the sudden reality of it hit him hard.
Although she had no clothes on, it wasn’t true to say she was naked. She had a steel ring around her neck, not large enough to go over her head but not too tight. A collar, he supposed. She had a belt around her waist, also made of steel, but this time it was composed of flexible links. Jim thought it looked like a metal flexible watch strap, except wider. There was a metal hoop on her back, level with her breasts, and a leather strap ran down from that to the belt. Two straps ran up from the hoop and over her shoulders to two metal hoops that surrounded her breasts. A strap connected the breast hoops, and another strap connected the two shoulder straps just behind her neck. Two more leather straps ran around under her arms to the hoop on her back, and two more down to the belt. She had a sort of metal cup over her private parts, connected to the belt at the front by two thin metal chains and by one chain at the back that ran between her buttocks. She also had bracelets on her wrists. Actually, not bracelets. Cuffs.
Her skin looked strange, uneven, puckered, a bit like the surface of a tyre, with higher points and lower points. She was wearing a mesh in place of clothes. Like the net you get satsumas in at the supermarket or bags of foil-wrapped chocolate coins at this time of year. Except this was tight on her, so tight it made indentations where it pressed into her skin. It ran under her collar, cuffs and harness. And whatever the mesh was made out of was fine, like strands of sewing thread. That must be painful to wear.
He stood there for a moment, holding the coat, while she cast her eyes down to the floor. Shaking his head, Jim came back to reality and hung the coat on the peg behind the door. He picked up her case – goodness, it was light – and headed over to her. He held his free hand out. She looked up and took it. So small in his large hand. He headed to the staircase at the end of the hallway, and she walked by his side.
Up the steps they went, hand in hand, and round the corners until they were on the upper floor. He led her down a corridor and into the guest bedroom. He let her hand go, and it dropped back to her side. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the bed. She sat. “Take your boots off,” he said. While she was doing that, he opened the wardrobe and took out the fold-away stand for cases. It was covered in dust. How long had that been in there, unused? He suddenly had a pang of self-sorrow.
Opening the stand, he lifted her case onto it, unzipped it and opened the top, letting it rest against the wall. Inside were some felt bags. He lifted them out and turned back to her. She was still sitting on the bed, watching him, with her boots on the floor next to her. He noticed that she had cuffs on her ankles as well, matching those on her wrists. He tossed the felt bags onto the bed.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Jim paused. “Look,” he said. “I’m not used to this. If I ask you an indirect question or if I use a euphemism, then you will make it into a direct question in your head and answer it as though I’d asked it that way. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Jim,” she said.
“So, do you need to use the bathroom?” he asked again.
She thought for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side, like she was trying to remember something buried deep inside her memory. “Yes,” she finally replied.
“Then it’s in there.” He gestured at the door into the guest bathroom.
She didn’t move.
“That means you can use the bathroom in there.” This was going to be really hard work.
She still didn’t move.
Jim wasn’t the sort to get annoyed, but he was fighting back that emotion.
“Go to the bathroom and do what you need to do!” The tone of his voice made it sound like he was upset with her.
She stood up and ran for the bathroom door.
Jim busied himself opening the felt bags and emptying the contents onto the bed. There were a few lengths of chain, a bunch of keys, some fairly normal-looking padlocks, some strange metal objects, a few things that looked frankly obscene, and his mind boggled as he tried to imagine what they were for. He stopped and heard soft sobs coming from the bathroom. He hurried across and went in. Natalie was sitting on the toilet, crying. He noticed the toilet lid was still down.
“What?” he snapped. She sat there with tear stains on her cheeks. Suddenly, he realised. She couldn’t. The metal cup over her private parts. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She melted into his arms, still crying. Reaching down, he picked her up and carried her back into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed - she was now sitting on his lap, her arms around his neck, whilst his arms wrapped around her body. They stayed like that for several minutes.
Eventually, he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I’m not used to this. And I know that it’s not what you’re used to either. So let’s compromise. I’m going to have to change now that you’re...” He paused, finding this hard. He was going to say “staying here”, but that probably wasn’t what she needed to hear. So he said, “ ... now that you’re mine.” Her eyes widened, and he looked deeply into them. “And you’re going to have to change as well. I know you’ve been used to behaving in a certain way. I don’t know what, why or how, and I’m not interested. But I can see in your eyes that you’re a clever young woman, so now you’re going to get some new orders. I’ve already told you how you’re to respond to my fumbling attempts at questions. But you’ve full permission to speak. All of the time.” He thought for a moment. “Unless I tell you otherwise. If I’m doing or saying something wrong, you must tell me – I have no other way of knowing. And if there’s something I’m not saying or asking that I should be, let me know. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Jim,” came the answer.
“So, do you know how to get this harness off?” he asked.