Strap-Ons and Obedience: The Escorts Rules

Maya had only just begun to feel the weight of her own power as a young escort specialising in BDSM and Fetish play sessions.

It had been a month since Anya, her mentor and former lover, had gently pushed her from the nest with the words: “You’re ready now. Let London feel you.” Since then, Maya had embraced the city like a velvet-gloved fist. And London, in return, had opened its doors — and its darkest desires — to her.

She began keeping a private diary. Each entry was a name, a postcode, a scene. A ritual. Her clients were not just seeking sex with escorts in London; they sought exposure. Pain. Surrender. And Maya? She gave them what they craved — on her terms.

1. Dominic — Bayswater: The Banker on His Knees

His emails were composed and precise. “Dominic R.,” age 53, a managing director at a global investment firm. Married. Polished. Terrified.

When she arrived at his art-filled Bayswater flat, he greeted her in a suit, nerves humming through his handshake. She didn’t even speak at first. She dropped her coat to the floor, revealing a sheer black catsuit beneath, her heels sharp as her intentions.

"Strip. Keep the tie on."

He obeyed.

Dominic knelt in front of her as ordered, eyes on the floor. Maya slowly circled him, dragging the tip of a leather riding crop across his chest.

“You like to be owned, don’t you?” she purred.

“Yes, Mistress,” he whispered, his voice already cracking.

The next hour was a performance. She made him lick her heels clean, crawl to the wall and kiss his own reflection while she mocked his limp cock. He begged to be spanked and she obliged—over her knees, then across the table, each slap more humiliating than the last.

When he finally came, it was from shame, not stimulation. She had him whimpering her name into a mouth gag.

Maya left him tied to the chair, weeping.

2. Elena — Earls Court: The Switch

Maya’s next session challenged her in an entirely new way.

Elena V. was a statuesque woman in her mid-thirties, born in Milan, now residing in a luxury apartment off a quiet street in Earls Court. Her profile simply read: “Switch. Skilled. Cruel when needed.”

Maya assumed she would take the lead. She wore latex, packed her favourite toys, and arrived ready to dominate.

But the moment Elena opened the door—dressed in a deep red silk robe, dark eyes piercing—Maya felt the energy shift.

“No instructions. Strip,” Elena said coolly.

Maya hesitated.

A slap cracked across her cheek. “I said, strip.”

Maya’s breath caught, and she obeyed.

What followed was a masterclass in submission. Elena bound her arms behind her back with crimson rope, tightening until Maya's muscles trembled. Her nipples were clamped, her legs spread wide with a polished wooden spreader bar. Then Elena teased her, feather-soft at first, then hard—ice cubes, wax, a vibrating wand at the edge of climax, again and again.

Maya wasn’t allowed to speak. When she cried out, Elena gagged her with a satin scarf and spanked her until her skin glowed.

The session ended with Maya tied face-down, unable to move, her soaked cunt pulsing, left in silence while Elena sipped wine and watched the young escort twitch.

It thrilled her. Terrified her. Freed her.

3. Kareem — Edgware Road: The Obedient Surgeon

Kareem was the one who surprised her most.

They met discreetly at a boutique hotel near Edgware Road, where he arrived twenty minutes early and waited in silence, hands folded like he was about to take communion.

“You’re punctual,” Maya said, entering in a long trench coat. “Good. Strip.”

He stood, revealing nothing but a chastity cage already in place.

“Please,” he whispered, eyes down. “Ruin me.”

Maya smirked.

She tied his wrists to the headboard, her commands clipped and cold. "You're not allowed to make a sound. If you do, I’ll leave."

What followed was sheer psychological warfare.

She blindfolded him and whispered filthy, degrading things into his ear—telling him how pathetic he looked, caged like a pet, how she could walk away and he'd never be free again.

She used ice and lube to tease him until he shook uncontrollably, brushing her fingers over the tiny opening in the cage, reminding him he would never be allowed inside her tight young escort pussy, not even once.

Eventually, she unlocked the cage. But she made him jerk off into a dog bowl while calling himself a disgrace.

He came with tears in his eyes.

Afterward, she made him clean up using only his tongue.

4. Victor — Marylebone: Precision and Pain

Her last client that month, Victor, was unlike any she’d met.

Sixty years old, tailored suits, old money. His penthouse overlooked Marylebone High Street, bookshelves lined with rare first editions, a cabinet of polished restraints beside a Persian rug.

He greeted her like a host greeting royalty. “Maya. I’ve heard... things.”

“I don’t disappoint,” she replied, unbuttoning her blouse slowly.

“No,” he murmured, “but tonight, I will test you.”

Victor was a connoisseur of control which he thoroughly enjoyed practicing London escorts. Every movement was orchestrated. He had custom-made shibari rings installed in his ceiling. Maya followed his instruction, suspending him from the hooks using red jute rope, tying him in a tight diamond harness across his chest and groin.

He hung like art. And she tortured him like one might enjoy opera — drawn out, delicate, emotional.

She stroked him with gloves of different textures, scratched him with her nails, poured melted wax in precise, slow streams down his chest. He moaned but didn’t break.

Then came the pegging.

He requested it.

She wore the strap-on like it was her crown. Took her time lubing him, whispering degradation into his ear as she slowly breached him.

Victor groaned, muscles tensed, body shaking enjoying the anal sex. “More,” he gasped.

When she finally allowed him to come, it was with his hands bound behind his back, cock untouched. He sobbed into the sheets, trembling.

“You will dream of me,” she whispered as she dressed. He nodded, helpless.

Epilogue: Becoming Maya

Maya sat in her flat in Kensington that Sunday night, naked, sipping chamomile tea with her legs curled beneath her.

She looked over her notes. The names, the scenes, the reactions.

She’d learned more in one month than she ever imagined.

Dominic taught her the thrill of utter control.
Elena reminded her how deep submission could go.
Kareem gave her power over shame.
Victor? Victor gave her validation. She could play with the most disciplined minds—and win.

Her phone buzzed.

Anya: “How’s the star student performing?”

Maya smirked and sent back a single image: a close-up of the red rope burns on her inner thighs, still fresh from Victor’s shibari setup.

She added: “Ready for my own protégée.”

Anya replied with a heart emoji and a new name.

London had another lesson coming.

And Maya was ready to teach.

OUR EXCLUSIVE SELECTION OF FETISH ESCORTS in LONDON

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