Jim's Story
Copyright© 2025 by Kevin Jay
Chapter 3: Shopping
BDSM Story: Chapter 3: Shopping - 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 Heterosexual Fiction BDSM DomSub MaleDom Light Bond
Jim slid into the driver’s seat and jabbed the garage remote. Outside, the storm had been howling all night. He started the engine, turned up the climate control, and winced as the warm air hit him. He hated being too warm, but he couldn’t let the ‘baggage’ in the boot get cold.
The gates at the end of the drive swung open as he approached and pulled out onto the paved road. He drove toward the town centre, then pulled onto the bypass and drove around to the retail park. A handful of clothes shops, a do-it-yourself store, a catalogue store. All closed. The only things open were an all-night fast-food restaurant and the hypermarket. He parked the car and got out. The rain had turned to sleet and was now becoming proper snow.
He grabbed a trolley and headed for the clothing aisles. Natalie couldn’t stay outside in the cold for long. He didn’t know what she would have chosen from the ranges on offer, or even whether she could have chosen. Basics first. On impulse, he added a set of fleecy pyjamas.
He added a few basic groceries, then headed for the checkouts. A few minutes later, r he was back outside, hurrying towards the car. The snow was getting heavier. Should he check on her? No, best not to let the warm air out. Plus, if anyone sees her...
The bags went onto the back seat. He climbed in and headed home. There was enough traffic on the bypass to keep the road clear of snow for the time being, but he still drove extra carefully. He passed a salt-spreading truck fitted with a plough blade—at least the local authority was doing its bit, but it showed they expected conditions to worsen. He should have checked the forecast before leaving the house.
The quieter back roads were worse. At one bend the car ignored the steering altogether and carried straight on. Jim caught it before they reached the hedge. After that, he took the bends very slowly.
Somehow they made it home. The garage door closed behind them, shutting out most of the storm. Natalie was still in the back, looking surprisingly comfortable apart from a few goosebumps.
“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded and stretched, easing the kinks out of her limbs. He went to remove the cling film holding the dishcloth in her mouth and saw disappointment on her face. “I have to,” he said. “We need to talk to each other.” She gave an almost imperceptible nod. After unwinding the cling film and easing the cloth from her mouth, he took the shopping and moved through to the kitchen, motioning for her to follow. He dumped the bags on the kitchen table.
Taking her hand, he led her back into the lounge and then had her sit in the same easy chair she had occupied the night before. He went to the bay window and lifted the lid on a box seat below it, retrieving a blanket. Walking back to her, he shook it out and laid it over her. “Until you warm up,” he said.
Once in his own chair, he reached for the music centre remote. He selected the radio and tuned it to a local radio station. The breakfast show was ending; a ballad sung by a woman who seemed to rely more on volume than ability. The DJ made some fatuous goodbyes and then played a track by an ‘80s supergroup. It wasn’t Jim’s kind of music. Natalie seemed to like it, though. Her foot stuck out from beneath the blanket, twitching almost in time with the beat.
The news came next—national headlines, local news, and then the weather. The storm was expected to last another twenty-four hours, but the snow should be intermittent. That would do.
Jim tuned the radio back to his favourite classical music station and lowered the volume so he could collect his thoughts. He watched Natalie, who was intently listening to the radio, her head tilted to one side again. Her lips moved. “I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls”. Hardly a song he’d have expected to hear today. The coincidence made him smile.
Jim stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he told Natalie. She looked up at him, then turned her attention back to the music. He fetched the laptop from the kitchen and settled back into his chair. For the next few minutes, he concentrated on typing.
Later, he glanced up at the clock on the wall. 9.30. Time they got going. He moved across to her, asked for the blanket, which she gave him, then helped her to her feet. He emptied the bags of clothes onto the chair she’d just vacated. “Get dressed,” he told her. He got a blank stare in return.
Jim pulled a pair of knickers from the pack and held them out. “Step into them.”
She did, and he pulled them up. Then she looked down, turning one leg slightly as though seeing them from every angle.
He held up a bra. She probably didn’t need it, but he decided it was better to have one. “Arms through.” He settled it around her and fastened it, then adjusted the straps. “Too tight anywhere?” “No, Jim.”
Dressed in socks, a T-shirt and jeans, Natalie kept looking down at herself, tugging experimentally at the T-shirt’s hem. Perhaps she’d genuinely never worn anything like it.
He handed her a sweater and helped her pull it over her head. Her collar and wrist cuffs were now hidden, as were her ankle cuffs under her jeans. He gave her the slip-on shoes. She stepped into them, and Jim gave her one last look. “Good.”
Something about the ordinary clothes suited her. Cheap jeans, a T-shirt and a supermarket sweater, and somehow she made the lot look good. Even her short, tousled hair seemed to work.
They went back to the garage. Jim got the SUV ready and helped Natalie into the passenger seat. His golf clubs were still in the back. Jim spotted the bag and paused. Then he reached in and rummaged around. He turned towards her. ‘Open wide.’ She did, and he popped a brand-new golf ball into her mouth. Another small smile.
They drove through the snow—lighter again now and easier to drive in—and eventually arrived at a nondescript single-story building. Jim parked and then turned to Natalie. “We’re going to see a doctor,” he told her. “Don’t worry. She’s a friend of mine. She’ll examine you and ask you some questions. Answer everything honestly, as best you can. And while you’re in there, do what she tells you. Understand?” She nodded. Jim got out and came around to Natalie’s side. He unbuckled her and helped her out, then locked the car before leading her inside. A receptionist sat behind a louvred glass screen. She looked up when she saw him and smiled. “Go right in, Mr Burney.”
Jim led Natalie through the door marked Dr Powell. A middle-aged woman looked up from her desk.
“Kate.”
“Hello, Jim.”
He nodded towards Natalie. “This is Natalie.”
“Good morning, Natalie,” Kate offered. No reply.
“I’m going to step outside now,” he said to Natalie. “I’ll be just outside the door. Are you okay?” Natalie nodded. “Shout when you’re done,” he said to Kate, then walked out of the office and closed the door behind him. He took a seat in the waiting room, picked up a magazine from the pile on an adjacent table and settled down to wait.
An hour later, he’d drunk two awful coffees from the vending machine and read pretty much everything in the waiting room: magazines, patient leaflets, posters about support for carers. Everything.
He’d drawn the line at the celebrity gossip magazine. He had standards.
The doctor’s door opened, and Kate looked out. “Jim?” He stood up and headed into the office, closing the door behind him. Kate was back at her desk, and Natalie sat on the edge of an examination table, swinging her legs gently with a faintly pleased look on her face. Jim sat in the chair beside the doctor’s desk. The door opened again, and the receptionist came in.
Kate looked at Natalie. “Before we carry on, I need you to confirm something for me. You’re still happy for me to discuss our session with Jim?” “Yes,” said Natalie. “Thanks, Liz,” said Kate, and the receptionist left.
“Natalie said I could talk to you, but she wouldn’t sign the consent form, so Liz just witnessed her agreeing to it. That’s enough for me.” Kate paused. “I’ve examined her. We’ve talked. There’s nothing seriously wrong with her physically, but there are a few things you’re going to need to deal with.”
“I’ll put everything in her medical notes, of course. I’ll send you a separate summary in a few days, but there are a couple of things I don’t want you waiting for.”
“Physically? She’s fine. Better than fine, actually.” Kate glanced at Jim. “A few marks, but nothing I’d worry about. You’ll want to keep her active, though. And don’t give me that look—you barely move.”
“I play golf.”
“Occasionally. That doesn’t count.”
She picked up a sheet of paper and passed it across the desk. “I’ve put some basic stuff together. Start with that.”
“As for her mental state...” Kate leaned back slightly. “Someone has conditioned her to think this way. To behave in this way. I’m fairly sure she chose it initially, but that’s not really the important part now.”
She looked at Jim. “You’re not going to undo years of this in a few weeks. Things may change eventually. They may not. Either way, if you’re going to look after her, you’ll need to understand that this isn’t going to disappear just because you’d like it to.”
“I think I understand,” Jim frowned. “So basically ... I’m the one who’s got to adjust first.”
“Yes, that’s a fair summary,” Kate nodded. “You probably need to do some learning really quickly. Unfortunately, I don’t have any leaflets that would help you.” She smiled. “The medical literature doesn’t really reach into that sort of area. In the meantime, I’d suggest a visit to a home improvement store on the way home and a dose of imagination.”
“You also need to find out who she is and get some ID for her. She needs to register with a doctor’s practice and probably lots of other services. I’d be delighted to have her here so I can monitor her, but that’s up to her. But find out who she is. Alongside working out how to live with her in your—well, let’s say ‘unusual’—circumstances, that has to be your top priority.”
Turning to Natalie, Kate asked her, “Anything else?” “No,” she replied.
Jim thanked Kate and held out his hand. Natalie took it without hesitation.
“One more thing,” said Kate. “I understand this is yours.” She took Jim’s other hand and dropped the golf ball into it. “Nice start,” she said, smiling.
Jim took Kate’s advice and called in at the home improvement store on the way home. It was a vast warehouse of a thing. Jim had never been a fan of these places, but now he was pushing a large trolley around one of them with a pretty young woman sitting cross-legged in the front of it. Natalie could easily walk around, yet the trolley’s wire-mesh design caught her interest, and she seemed happy to stay seated in it. It did, though, make steering the trolley much harder.
Jim idly wondered whether the store’s promotional signs were supposed to look like they did. Professionally printed, of course, and deliberately made to look as though a five-year-old had produced them.
By the time they reached the checkout, the trolley was full of chains, padlocks, rope, duct tape, and assorted hardware. Jim had chosen most of it, but he’d made Natalie point out anything else she thought might be useful. She’d chosen a few things he couldn’t make sense of: drainpipe clips, lengths of foam pipe lagging, wooden brush handles, and a handful of brass screw-eyes.
At the checkout, Jim loaded their purchases onto the conveyor belt and put them back in the trolley as the checkout operator—a young man in his late teens—scanned them. He stopped when he reached a shrink-wrapped pack of padlocks. “There’s one missing. Want to get another pack?”
Jim glanced at Natalie. She was looking pointedly at the bottom of the trolley. When their eyes met, she raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“No,” Jim said. “I’ll take them as they are.”
“Suit yourself,” the checkout operator said, and continued to scan.
Jim paid, wheeled the trolley back to the SUV and loaded the bags into the back. When he turned to lift Natalie out, he noticed her almost sheepish smile. Then he noticed the trouser leg she’d pulled up. She had padlocked her ankle to the trolley mesh.
Jim shook his head, amused, and dug the opened padlock packet out of the bags. A moment later, he freed her and helped her out of the trolley.
She padded around to the passenger seat and hopped in whilst Jim wheeled the trolley back to the trolley park.
The drive back home was uneventful. Natalie could barely contain her excitement. She reminded Jim of a child who knew a surprise was waiting. That thought set Jim’s mind racing; Christmas was only a few days away, and Jim needed to organise something for two now. He normally went through the motions at Christmas—presents for the housekeeper and gardener, decorations around the house—but that was about it. Not since...
He pushed the thought aside. This year would be different. He’d have someone to buy for.
Back home, Jim and Natalie unloaded their shopping from the SUV and hauled it into the lounge. He collected a set of old keys as they passed through the utility room and pocketed them. Once they had everything in the lounge, Jim told Natalie to undress. While she did, he removed the keys from the old keyring, leaving only the ring itself. Jim showed Natalie how to fold her clothes up, and she left them on the sofa. Once that was done, Jim searched through the bags and pulled out a reel of fine chain, some tiny suitcase padlocks and some tin snips.