Anya Takes a Protegee

Mentorship never felt so intimate.

It was a rainy Tuesday in London when Anya first met Mila — a shy, wide-eyed 20-year-old from Bucharest with porcelain skin, chestnut hair, and a body that hinted at sin beneath her innocent cardigan. The escorts agency had sent her to Anya directly.

“She reminds us of you, back when you started,” the message read. “Maybe you can show her the ropes… and the cuffs.”

Mila arrived at Anya’s flat in Kensington looking nervous but eager. She clutched a small purse, her makeup minimal, her voice soft.

“I need money,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to end up in some cheap hotel room with sweaty men. I heard you work differently.”

Anya gave a soft smile and poured her tea. “Darling, I don’t work. I curate experiences… for men who worship the female mind — and body. If you’re going to do this, do it with class, control, and confidence” aim to join the ranks of the highest paid VIP escorts in London

She leaned in, her voice like silk. “And I’ll teach you everything.”

Lesson One: Presentation is Power

Anya opened her wardrobe, revealing rows of designer lingerie, stilettos, and silk robes.

“No tacky outfits. No fishnets. No sequins,” she instructed. If you want to be an escort on top of you game in London the first thing to understand is that “Subtle luxury seduces better than screaming sex.”

She helped Mila into a lace Agent Provocateur set — black, delicate, hugging her pert breasts and slim waist. A pair of heels completed the look. Mila stared in the mirror, breath caught in her throat.

“I look… expensive.”

“You are,” Anya said. “Now let’s show them why.”

Lesson Two: Submission Begins with Trust

Their first duo booking was with an art collector in Marylebone — mid-40s, French accent, utterly refined. He wanted to watch Anya teach her young escort student.

“Use her,” he instructed from his velvet armchair. “Like she’s your canvas.”

Anya turned to Mila. “On your knees.”

Mila knelt, eyes wide. Anya unzipped her own skirt, lifted it slowly, letting her round, firm bottom peek through the garter belt.

She reached for the strap-on in her travel bag — black, sleek, and perfectly sized. With deliberate care, she helped Mila onto the bed, spreading her legs, kissing her inner thighs seductively preparing her for anal sex.

“You trust me?” she whispered.

Mila nodded.

Anya eased into her gently at first, watching Mila’s body respond. Soft gasps, a slight arch, then surrender. The client stroked himself, moaning softly as he watched the two beautiful A Level escorts.

When Anya finished, she leaned in and kissed Mila’s lips. “Good girl.”

Lesson Three: The Price of Wet Gold

A week later, a high-society barrister requested a pair of young duo escorts. His kink? Humiliation. Watersports. Control.

Mila hesitated. “I’ve never... done that.”

Anya pulled her close, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “It’s about confidence. He doesn’t want a dirty girl. He wants a goddess.”

The session took place in a Hampstead townhouse. The man knelt in the bathroom, nude, a towel beneath him. Anya whispered instructions to Mila as she stood above him.

“Relax. Let it flow.”

Mila hesitated — then obeyed. The man groaned in rapture as the warm stream of pee soaked his chest. Anya pressed against Mila from behind, one hand between her legs, encouraging her.

“He’s yours now,” she said. “Do you feel that power?”

Mila nodded, flushed and aroused. “Yes.”

Lesson Four: Anal Is a Gift — Give It Slowly

Not every client wanted intensity on the first go. Some needed teasing. Others wanted to be taken.

One client — an author famous for political thrillers — invited them to his Chelsea penthouse. He confessed a craving to be dominated by two A Level escorts.

“Ever used a strap-on?” Anya asked Mila.

“Not yet,” she replied, biting her lip.

“Tonight’s your debut.”

They tied the man to a leather bench, his body already oiled and trembling. Anya guided Mila behind him, lubing the strap-on and easing her in inch by inch up his arse. The author moaned in extasy, gasping as Mila pressed deeper, her hands firm on his hips.

“You’re a natural anal escort,” Anya whispered, stroking the man’s back, whispering degrading praise as Mila moved slowly inside him.

Afterwards, the client paid in crisp £50 notes and left a first edition signed copy of his bestseller for Mila.

Lesson Five: The Mind is the Most Powerful Sex Organ

At the end of the month, Anya and Mila were invited to a private intellectual dinner in Notting Hill — a gathering of six clients, all professors, thinkers, and billionaires. It wasn’t about sex at first. It was about conversation, presence, tease.

Mila wore a white silk dress with no bra, nipples just faintly visible beneath the fabric. She quoted Marx, debated Keynes, and made three of the men visibly hard during dessert.

Later that night, the men took turns with the duo escorts in the library — Mila bent over a piano, Anya sucking one man’s cock to a CIM with swallow completion as another slapped her arse, then took her anally.

Mila moaned as she was filled from behind, looking over her shoulder at Anya and smiling, her eyes full of something new — hunger.

Final Lesson: You're Not Just a Body — You're the Experience

Back in the safety of Anya’s flat, the two London escorts lay side by side, bodies aching, skin glowing.

“I never knew it could feel like this,” Mila said. “I feel… wanted, powerful.”

Anya leaned over and kissed her softly. “Because you’ve learned. You’re not selling your body. You’re commanding desire. You’re delivering fantasies. You’re in control, even when you surrender.”

She ran her fingers down Mila’s thigh. “And you’ve just begun.”

Epilogue: The Student Becomes the Seductress

Within weeks, Mila was in demand. Clients requested her by name — often as part of the duo. Anya watched her blossom into her own: confident, assertive, sexually fluid, and hungry to explore more especially BDSM.

Their bond became more than just mentor and student. They shared more than clients — they shared secrets, pleasures, and quiet moments after dark. Sometimes they didn’t take bookings and just stayed in, experimenting with ropes, oils, and each other.

Mila, once shy and unsure, now strutted down London streets in heels and sunglasses, her bank account growing, her self-worth exploding knowing that she was becoming one of the elite escorts in London.

And Anya? She had never felt more powerful — or more aroused — than when she looked into Mila’s eyes and saw a new queen rising.

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