Training Ryan 1
The idea came to me one wet Fall afternoon while browsing my favorite gay websites for the latest videos. As usual, I spent much of the time in the BDSM authoritarian sections. The videos of naked twinks in various predicaments always turned me on and I suddenly realized that I could set up scenes like this for real. I had recently moved from an apartment into an old, rather dilapidated house and it was very private, tucked away at the end of a short dead-end street, behind a rarely used warehouse. Most important of all, it had a basement that would make an ideal BDSM playroom.
Immediately I got to work and made a list of the things that needed to be done and a plan for the basemen. Over the next few weeks I was busy preparing the basement. I painted the brick walls a matte black and fitted a a few directional wall and ceiling lights, each wth its own dimmer. I left the joists in the ceiling bare and painted them black as well. The concrete floor was already covered with a fitted plain carpet and although it was old, I decided to leave it in place.
There were two ways to access the basement: a flight of stairs from the main floor and an external door that led to a short set of concrete steps up to the secluded back yard. A small bathroom with a toilet and a shower meant that the playroom was self-sufficient and independent from the rest of the house.
There was a small walk-in closet in one corner that would make an ideal cell for incarcerating and controlling a slave so I installed a strong lock and fitted a grill in the door at head-height with a flap that covered it so that I could check up on an inmate and then isolate the cell from the rest of the dungeon. (Yes, by now I had decided that it was to be a fully-equipped dungeon.)
I fitted some miniature CCTV cameras that were unobtrusive and would enable me to monitor the dungeon, the cell, the external steps down to the basement door, and the front yard. These were connected to a monitor in my study. I also mounted a flat panel screen to the ceiling above the bondage table and other to a wall.
I screwed a bunch of steel hooks and eyes into the ceiling beams and the walls so that there would always be plenty of places to secure a slave-boy. The thing that took me longest to construct was the bondage table. It was about six-foot by two-foot and had many steel eyes screwed around edge. I fitted some Velcro tapes as well as they are quick to apply and release when working with a boy.
A trip to the used furniture store provided me with a large chest-of-drawers for storage of the various equipment and toys I had accumulated, One wall was covered with a selection of paddles, crops, whips, and leather and steel collars and cuffs. I looked forward to buying additional equipment as the need arose and spent a couple of hours at the Mr.S leather website and others getting ideas. A black sofa and a couple of armchairs and a dining chair with arms completed the set up.
When I was putting the finishing touches to the dungeon, I prepared a posting for a couple of local websites, outlining the opportunity for a young man to be disciplined and trained over series of visits as a submissive. The posting was light on the specifics as the next step was for anyone interested to email me and this would give me a chance to explore whether there was a fit. It took a couple of weeks of email exchange with many guys to narrow the field down to the most promising candidate, Ryan, a 19-year-old from a town a few miles away. In our correspondence I explored his experience--or lack of it--and his ideas of what he needed. I laid down some ground rules: nothing unsafe or dangerous; no permanent injuries; no photography or video recording; the right to stop and pull out at any time; complete confidentiality; and, of course, complete obedience.
I emphasized that the next step was an in-person interview and test with no guarantee of his acceptance as a trainee. He agreed and was eager to report for evaluation as soon as possible. I gave him instructions on how to find my house and told him to park his car on the road in front and to walk up the path to the rear of the building. At the top of the short flight of steps from the yard to the basement door, he was to strip naked, put his clothes in the utility closet in the wall, walk down the steps and knock on the door at precisely 7pm. He was then to wait. I smiled to myself as I imagined his fear of being seen by neighbors, not realizing just how private the back of the house was; this would be a good test of his obedience. It was winter so it would be cold and the darkness broken by a outside light over the door.
He had sent me a head-shot but I declined any other photos as I wanted to see what he had to offer in the flesh first without any posed pictures forming preconceptions. I liked what I had seen: a fresh faced boy, looking younger than nineteen with longish, untidy, dirty blond hair and smooth cheeks. He had the shy but eager smile of someone ready to please. He looked very promising.
Saturday--the day of Ryan's interview--finally arrived and I sat in my study watching the CCTV feeds from the security system. At 6:45 pm I saw a old Toyota Camry pull up in front of my house and turn off its lights. Then nothing happened and I could imagine the boy, nervous and getting the courage to go forward with the arrangement. Finally, after what seemed like an age, the driver's door opened and a slim figure in a tracksuit got out and looked around, perhaps wondering if he had got the right place. Then he locked the car door and cautiously walked up the path. The I lost sight of him for a few moments till i picked him up again with the backdoor camera. He opened the door to the utility cupboard, lit up by the light over the door, looking around and peering into the darkness. He shivered and in a flurry of movements, he pulled off the tracksuit top and his shirt, then he kicked out of his pants and small briefs, rolling up his clothes and thrusting them into the cupboard and closing the door. I caught a flash of his naked body as he hugged himself in the cold air and descended the steps. I left the study and went down into the basement where I heard a timid knocking on the outside door. My trainee was ready for his interview and evaluation.