Day One
by Kevin Jay

Part 1

Author’s note: This story is intended to be multi-part so this initial chapter aims only to start the story going and introduce the main characters. I’ve introduced some elements which will be explored more in future chapters so I’ve purposefully left questions hanging and loose ends.

He waited on the platform of the train station; the display board showing 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 “distracted”. He had good reason to be distracted. Events had taken such a strange turn in the last 24 hours He looked along the platform. People in smart clothes on their way to business meetings, students with huge backpacks, the odd family group heading home after a day out.

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 round the open doors as the alighting passengers started to step down from the train. He scanned the disembarking passengers, not quite sure 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 against the winter chill. He walked up to her. “Antelope,” he said. The code word.

She looked up at him, smiled a small smile, a sad, nervous smile, and said “Sodium.” The correct response.

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, 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 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 cast a second look at them; 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 fastened the seat belt and seemed to relax. She smiled her sad smile at him again.

They pulled out into the early 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. 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 realized 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 sat 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. He looked back at the letter and scanned it quickly. The letter told him something about the young woman standing in front of 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 round the hallway for inspiration. It was decked out for Christmas. The tree stood in the corner 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?”


“What would you like?”

“I don’t know.”

Jim shook his head. He was going to 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?”


“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 may 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 who you last stayed with. I knew him very well at one time. He was best man at my wedding. But we’ve not seen or spoken to each other in, oh, twenty years now. Until yesterday 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 organize 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 big enough to go over her head but not big enough to be tight. A collar, he supposed. She had a belt around her waist, also made of steel but this time 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 up, over her shoulders, to two metal hoops that surrounded her breasts, the breast hoops connected by a strap with another strap connecting the two shoulder straps just behind her neck. Two more leather straps ran round 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.

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 bends until they were on the first 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 the fold-away case stand out. It was covered in dust. How long had that been in there, unused? He suddenly had a pang of self-sorrow.

Opening the case stand out, 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?”

“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 for getting annoyed, but he was fighting back that emotion. “Go to the bathroom and do what you need to do!”

She stood up and ran for the bathroom door.

Jim busied himself opening the felt bags and emptying the contents out 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 crying 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 stood up, tear stains on her cheeks. Suddenly he realized. 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, carried her back into the bedroom and 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 up 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 trained to behave 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. We’ve already been through how you’re to answer 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 that’s wrong, you must tell me – I have no other way of knowing. And if there’s something I’m not saying or asking and that I should, you must tell me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Jim,” came the answer.

“So, do you know how to get this harness off?” he asked.

She paused, head tilted slightly again. She was obviously finding this hard. “My old master would have asked ‘How do I get this harness off?’. If that’s what you meant then…” She took her arms from around his neck and tentatively reached her hand towards the items from the felt bag on the bed. She stopped, obviously uncertain, and pulled her arm back.

“Go on…” Jim encouraged. She leaned over, overbalancing and falling off his lap and sprawled onto the bed. She flipped onto her stomach, reached out and picked up a metal rod with a semi-circular notch cut out of one end. She handed it to Jim.

“What do I do?” Jim asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. She saw his face fall. “No,” she quickly added, “really. I don’t know. It happens behind my back and I’ve never seen it.”

She was still lying on her stomach so Jim sat onto the bed next to her and started to examine the harness. He looked at the belt first. It was basically a series of very finely crafted metal box sections linked together internally. He couldn’t see anywhere where a lock may be. But, there, in the small of her back, there was a slight difference in how two of the joints abutted. Just where the buttock chain met the belt. He leant over, looking closely. He realized his face was a few inches from her buttocks. He hadn’t been this close to a woman’s private parts since… He put the thought to the back of his mind. No point in feeling sorry for himself. More urgent emotions and more urgent problems, not least how to enable this poor woman to use the bathroom. Looking closely he saw a small hole in the top of one of the metal sections. He put the metal tool into the hole. Click. The belt came apart and the buttock chain came away as well. Probably some sort of three-way magnetic lock. Very clever. He stopped to admire the craftwork of whoever made that belt, the engineer in him coming to the surface. But no. On to the matter at hand.

He took her arm and rolled her over and then pulled her up onto her feet. She moved her legs apart. Without being told to. Interesting. Her buttock chain came down between her legs and the metal cup swung forward. He pulled her shoulder straps over her head and her breasts came free from their hoops. The harness was off and he gestured towards the bathroom. “All yours,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said and looked down. He realized; she was plugged as well.

“Can you get them out?”


“Jump up onto the bed then,” he said. She lay on her back and drew her knees up to her chin. She was plugged front and rear. Jim was trying to remain calm but here he was, a middle-aged man who hadn’t been intimate with anyone since… And now a young woman was asking him to… And she was hairless down there as well… He shuddered.

Buckling down to the job, Jim looked at the plug in her pussy first. All he could see was the base of it. A black disc. He took hold of it with the tips of his fingers, trying not to touch her, and pulled. She squeaked. The plug didn’t move. He looked again. There was a small hole in the middle of the disc.

He looked at the assortment of metal bits on the bed. There was something that looked suspiciously like the device he used to use to blow up footballs when he’d been younger. A narrow hollow tube with a screw connector on one end. A “friend”, they called the football ones. He smiled. If he was right then it was certainly about to be Natalie’s friend.

“Tell me if this hurts,” he said. Taking the friend, he pushed it into the hole in the disc. There was a rush of escaping air and he felt the disc start to move. Once the rush of air had subsided, he pulled at the disc again and it came out of her with a plop. It seemed to be a dildo with an inflatable bladder and a valve. Just like footballs – he had been right. Except without the dildo. He smiled again. He turned his attention to the plug in her ass. It was of the same design and soon that was out as well.

He grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Go,” he said, gesturing at the bathroom door. She padded across the carpet and disappeared inside.

Jim swept up the chains and other stuff on the bed and deposited them in the top drawer of the dressing table. Just as he closed the drawer he heard her call “Jim!”

He walked across to the bathroom door and stood outside. “Yes?” he said.

“I’m ready.”

“What for?”

“Inspection and clean-up.”

“Ah, no.” Jim was a little aghast. “I won’t be inspecting that sort of thing. Can you clean yourself up?”

“Yes, Jim”.

The cistern flushed and she padded out again.

“All done?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied but Jim noticed a very slight glance back into the bathroom.

“Is there something else in the bathroom that you need?” he asked.

She cast her eyes down again, looking at the floor. He reached out and took her chin, gently moving it up to raise her head. She looked into his eyes.

“I know it’s hard,” he said. “I know it isn’t what you’re used to. But what I told you earlier is more important than any training you’ve had or any previous orders people have given you. I don’t know how to…” He paused. The words didn’t come naturally to him. “…own someone. We need to work together otherwise this isn’t going to work. I know you being here…” He paused again. “Being mine. It isn’t what either of us thought would happen a few days ago. It probably isn’t what either of us wanted.” He saw the sadness cross across her eyes again. “But we are where we are. I told you that if there’s anything I should ask or tell you that I don’t; if there was anything I’m doing that’s wrong then you must tell me. Now tell me.”

She tried to hang her head again but he kept his finger under her chin.

“You have a bath in there…”

“Of course,” he said. Looking at her, she still had her collar and cuffs on. “We’ll need to get those off,” he said, miming the collar.

“They won’t come off,” she said, looking at the floor again.

“Won’t?” Jim asked.

“Well, all the time since my previous master took me, they’ve never been taken off.” She looked up at him. “I’ve been wet with them on before,” she offered, hopefully, “although never in a bath.” She looked down again.

“Shower?” Jim asked.

“Hose pipe,” came the reply.

Jim shook his head and went into the bathroom. He pulled the lever to stop up the plughole and then he called her in. “I don’t know how you like your bath,” he said, “so run it yourself. I’ll go and find some bath foam.” He saw her face fill with emotion. Fear? He raised his eyebrows and gave her his “what now” look.

“Are you…” she started and then stopped, eyes downcast again.

“We just spoke about this,” Jim reminded her.

“Are you… leaving me like this?” she asked.

“How am I supposed to leave you?”

“Well…” she said. She was still clearly not comfortable with interacting with him in anything other than a direct question-and-answer format. “Well… I’ve never been left alone and free since my previous master took me.”

“I’m going to find you some bath foam,” Jim reminded her. “I’ll be gone two minutes.”

Her face started to crumple up again and she was close to tears. No point in pushing her too far at this stage, Jim thought.

“OK, OK. Have it your way.” He hurried back into the bathroom and opened the top drawer of the dressing table. He took out a length of chain, silver in colour, possibly stainless steel, and two of the padlocks. He went back into the bathroom and knelt down at Natalie’s feet. He put the hasp of one of the padlocks through the staple in her right ankle cuff and then through the last link on the chain. Then he looped the other end of the chain around the ornamental foot on the cast iron bath before clipping it back to itself using the other padlock. He straightened up. “Happy now?” he asked her. She was really smiling for the first time today and she nodded. “I’ll be right back,” he said and headed out to find the bath foam.

He went into the master bathroom – and the name of that room had suddenly become more interesting – and rummaged around in the bathroom cabinet. He didn’t have much female stuff in the house and he wasn’t one for taking baths.

Back in the guest bathroom, the bath was filling nicely. When he came back into the room, he was greeted by the sight of Natalie bending over the bath, swirling the water round with her hand. Goodness, she had a nice ass. He’d seen it close up earlier, of course, but that whole episode – he smiled at the pun - was a bit gynecological for his taste. “Here you are,” he said. “I don’t have bath foam but I do have shower gel. It should foam OK for you, although it is a rather male brand. And a new toothbrush and some toothpaste as well.”

Natalie stood up and spun around like a ballerina, a great grin on her face. “Thank you,” she said and took the shower gel off him. She squeezed it into the bath and the foam started to appear. He put the toothbrush and toothpaste in the wash basin and stood back, surveying the scene.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “I have things to do and you’re not going anywhere with that chain on. Shout me when you’re done and I’ll come and unchain you.” She smiled and nodded and he went back into the bedroom, out into the corridor and headed back down the stairs.

He went into his home office and collected his laptop and charger before heading back upstairs. He went into the master bedroom, plugged the laptop in and settled down on the bed to do some Internet surfing. He has a lot of research to do, some arrangements to make as well as checking up on some things that Charlie had mentioned in his letter.

Around a half-hour later, he heard his name being called. He got up off the bed and went down the corridor into the guest bathroom. She was still there, of course, sitting on the edge of the bath. She’d found the towels and had dried herself off and had cleaned the bath out using the shower attachment. She even had a towel curled around on her head, the way that only women know how to do. “Almost normal,” Jim thought to himself and smiled inwardly. Except she didn’t have a towel wrapped round her as well – she was still naked apart from her bonds. And very beautiful as well. If you were going to have a stranger, and –let’s face it – a slave foisted on you with almost no notice and no experience, then Natalie didn’t seem too bad a lot to have drawn.

He undid the chain from around the foot of the bath and moved over to unfasten the chain from her ankle cuff. She put her hand on his shoulder. He looked up and found her to be looking at him, deadpan. He understood. As she was slowly “normalizing” in his eyes, he was slowly “normalizing” in hers. He handed her the chain and she took it from him.

“Time for you to go to bed,” he told her and headed out into the bedroom. “Come on!” he called back. It was easy to forget. From an almost normal bathroom scene a moment ago – apart from the chain – he still had to remind himself that she was… his slave. And they both needed to adapt.

She came into the bedroom and he turned the corner of the duvet over. “In you go,” he said. He was consciously trying to give instructions. Her eyes widened but she said nothing. He had noticed, though.

“Problem?” he asked.

“No!” she said, perhaps too quickly, and almost ran over to the bed and jumped in. She pulled the duvet over her until it was just below her chin. Her face was peeping out, eyes still wide.

“What?” he asked. “Never seen a bed before?”

“Seen, yes. Used, not since my previous master took me.” That odd phrase again. Jim made a mental note.

“Where have you been sleeping?”

“In my cage. On the floor. Outside. In the stables. Lots of places.”

“Ah.” Jim was getting used to being shocked by Natalie. “Well not here. Tonight you’re in that bed.” He turned around and headed out of the door. There was a rattle in the room behind him.

He turned around again. Natalie had dropped the chain out of the bed and it was now resting on the floor, the end snaking up under the duvet to the cuff on her ankle. She was still peeking out from under the duvet.

“Hint taken,” he said. He picked up the end of the chain, looped it around the foot of the bed and clipped it back to itself using the padlock in his pocket. “Happy?” he asked. She peered out at him, not smiling. Something was still wrong but he didn’t know what. So he asked. “What?”

“Are you leaving me?” she asked.

“I have my own bedroom,” he said. “And your chain is on…”

“This isn’t your bedroom?”

“No. It’s the guest bedroom.”

“Oh.” She looked crestfallen and tears started to well up in her eyes.

“No, no, no. Now stop that. OK, OK.” Jim started to undress at the foot of the bed until he got down to his boxer shorts. He didn’t want her to see him nude. He knew it was stupid; he’d just pulled an inflatable dildo out of her ass and he didn’t even want her to see his cock. But it just didn’t feel right. He clambered under the duvet alongside her. Right at the edge of the bed, as far away from her as he could get and flipped the light off. He heard her starting to cry again.

He shuffled across the bed. Her back was to him and he spooned up behind her. “For a slave, you make a lot of demands,” he said. He heard her tears subside and perhaps a small laugh. His hands were in the natural position. Over her breasts. Unthinkingly he began to play with her nipples. Up until now this hadn’t been a terribly erotic night. More about doing a job that needs to be done. Perhaps like a gynecologist feels about his job. But this was something different. He started to become erect, digging into her back. Her hands came around and she started to put them under the waistband of his boxers.

“No,” he said softly. “Tonight’s not the time.” He heard her sigh and she withdrew her hands. He made a conscious effort to leave her breasts alone, which wasn’t easy. Soon he felt her breathing slow and she was asleep. He had a lot of things racing through his mind. But soon he was also asleep. Next to a woman. Next to her.

End of part one.

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