Meet me at one: A London escort's tale of submission in Mayfair by Diva Agency

The clock on the church tower chimed one. I looked at the gold Rolex watch on my wrist; a present from a long standing client. I didn't want to be late. I usually liked to make clients wait for just a few minutes before I made my grand entrance, however this was one client I didn't want to upset. The bar was just around the corner overlooking Berkeley Square in Mayfair. It was one of those fashionable places, with just a discreet brass plaque adorning the black door giving any clue to the private members club that lay behind. I was meeting a new client for lunch, and I could feel the excitement rising as I rounded the corner to come face to face with the famous plane trees, said to be the oldest in central London; an excitement which didn't seem to wane even though I'd been working as an escort for Diva Escorts in London for almost a year.

I pressed the discreet buzzer and almost instantaneously the door swung open. As one of Diva's Knightsbridge escorts, I'd been to several 'members only' clubs in this part of London before. I gave my name and was led up to the second floor to the members' club room with its impressive bar and stylish tables made for two.  My date for the afternoon was waiting for me, lounging slightly on the soft beige coloured hide chairs, a nonchalant expression on his handsome face. I breathed a sigh of relief. During the last year I'd met all kinds of different men; some good looking, some funny, some overweight, some short, some tall, but all of whom, (luckily for me) had been polite and respectful. He introduced himself as 'John'. Although he spoke perfect English, I couldn't quite place his accent, but his dark looks suggested that he might have come from somewhere in the Middle East. I didn't usually ask personal questions, and most of my clients didn't really offer any details of their private lives.

After shaking hands, I sat down at the table, smiling a little as I anticipated what would happen next. Prior to the meeting I'd been sent some instructions, which so far, I'd followed to the letter. To be honest the thought of what was about to happen intrigued me. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, I reached into my handbag and took out a small remote control which I handed to him. He smiled and nodded, before slipping it into the pocket of his jacket. He motioned the waiter and ordered some drinks. I shifted a little nervously in my seat. My instructions had been very clear. He would take control of the whole meeting. He would decide what I drank, what I ate, how I conducted myself. This wasn't the kind of behaviour I was used to. While I usually tried to accommodate my clients' wishes, I'd never submitted to this level of control before.  

I guess he'd chosen me from all the London escorts promoted by Diva as I'd expressed an interest in offering submissive escort services for dominant men. So far, nobody had really asked for this option, although most men did take the lead during our meetings. However, John had specifically requested me because he wanted to exert his control completely during our time together. I was more than a little intrigued. Usually guys just wanted me to meet them in their hotel rooms, or come to my incall escort apartment in Green Park. I also offered outcall escort services in the Knightsbridge and Hyde Park Corner areas with the occasional foray into Mayfair for dinner at Nobu or dancing at Annabels. However, I was rarely asked for lunch meetings and I'd certainly never had a request like this before.

The waiter returned to our table, two drinks balanced on a silver tray. As he bent to place the glasses on the table I felt a sharp vibration pulse through my body. It had begun. Startled by the strength of the pulsation, I flinched. Fighting to bring myself under control, I glanced up at John to see his reaction to my predicament. His face was impassive. He looked just as cool as he had the minute before. However, the waiter had noticed my discomfort, a small crease furrowing his brow as he watched me trying to compose myself. I thought he might say something but, just like all the staff in establishments such as these, he was paid to serve, not to comment on the behaviour of its clientele. Just as I thought I'd managed to control my body, another sharp pulse hit me, followed by an intense throbbing as the little remote controlled vibe hidden deep inside me started to pulsate at John's command.

When I'd read John's instructions for the meeting, my first thought had been to reject them and turn down his requests. However, after considering them for a few minutes, I began to think that this  could prove to be a very interesting proposition indeed. While the vast majority of meetings were enjoyable, some could be, let's say, more than a little predictable and I was eager to try something new. Although a few of my meetings were in my guise as a party girl escort, accompanying guys to some of the upmarket clubs in the Mayfair and Knightsbridge areas, most of the time I entertained gentlemen in my apartment or at their hotel room or accommodation. However, I'd never been invited for lunch at this kind of club before, and most assignations took place once the sun had gone down.

Now here I was, sitting in an exclusive members' club, wearing a tight black pencil skirt, white silk blouse, stockings, suspenders and high heeled shoes exactly as requested, with a small fuchsia pink vibe firmly ensconced inside me. I'd already handed John the remote control and so he was very firmly in charge of my arousal. While I believed that I'd be able to fight off any possibility of becoming too aroused in public, after the first few pulses, I was starting to doubt my resolve. Visions of the film 'When Harry met Sally' came into view, where Sally fakes an orgasm in the middle of a crowded cafe. I sincerely hoped that this wasn't going to happen to me, that I wouldn't be powerless to resist a forced orgasm, that I'd be able to just squeeze my legs together and force the feelings away.

To say that John was the strong silent type was probably a bit of an understatement. He didn't seem to want to make any meaningful conversation. In fact I was starting to become a little intimidated, sitting under his cool gaze as he stimulated me. This wasn't the kind of situation I was used to. I usually exuded confidence, but this scenario was making me feel increasingly uncomfortable. John seemed to sense my unease and he smiled at me, assuring me that I was doing well. He leant across the table and took my hand; his dark eyes met mine and suddenly all my apprehensions faded away. However, my new found confidence was short lived as he pressed the little buttons that controlled the vibrations. There I was, gazing into his eyes, as he stroked my hand while orchestrating my excitement.

Suddenly, all my insecurities seemed to vanish as the pulsing sensations started to take over my body. I felt my inhibitions lift and my naturally exhibitionist tendencies start to take over. I could feel the wetness between my legs growing; the stickiness on my thighs. He'd ordered me to meet him without pants and I was increasingly aware of my sexual juices seeping out and staining my fine wool skirt. I wriggled in my seat, trying to direct the vibrations onto my g-spot. The thought of orgasming in public was starting to become a little intoxicating for me; I wondered whether the waiter would notice, or the two stiff looking guys sat at the next table. I began clenching my internal muscles trying to force my orgasm to erupt, feeling more and more in control of my own body. Yes, John might be pressing those little buttons, but I seemed to be firmly in charge of my arousal.

As the sensation increased, I leant back slightly in my chair, my lips slightly open, my eyes starting to glaze over. I couldn't believe that I was about to orgasm in the presence of all these people, while a virtual stranger held my hand and gazed into my eyes. I felt my eyelids lower, and my breathing start to quicken. I knew I was close. This wasn't going to be a Harry and Sally moment. I wasn't going to shout and moan and scream. I'd just accept those pleasurable sensations in silence and let them course through my body in undulating waves. I could feel those ripples of burgeoning satisfaction building into a crescendo.

My head tipped back; this was it. I was about to come in public and nothing was going to stop me. I could see a smile of approval spread across John's perfectly shaped lips. His eyes were gleaming as he watched me arch my back and bear down onto the chair. It seemed as though time was standing still as my body erupted. I gasped. His grip on my hand increased. The sensation coursed through me, stirring my senses and making me catch my breath. It was short but intense and I felt the flush of blood suffuse my face.  

As the sensation subsided, I experienced a rush of embarrassment. Had I really just orgasmed in the middle of a very upmarket gentleman's club?  Suddenly I didn't know what to do. There I was, sitting with someone I'd only met fifteen minutes ago, my thighs smeared with the evidence of my arousal and my face flushed from sexual pleasure. However, my companion took it all in his stride, just as though this was something that usually happened when he took an attractive woman out for lunch. Maybe it was. I had no way of knowing.

He leant forward and whispered "Good girl. You'll be rewarded later for your obedience".

A few moments later, the waiter approached the table once more to inform us that our dining table was ready. John acted as though nothing untoward had happened, ushering me to the table like a perfect gentleman. I already knew that he would order lunch for me, choosing items from the menu without any reference to me. Luckily he chose a simple fish dish that was absolutely delicious, followed by a lighter than air fruit mousse. Once the plates were cleared away, he informed me that it was time for my reward. He held out his hand and escorted me from the dining room and to the exit. There was already a discreet black limousine waiting for us outside.

We were whisked away through the busy London traffic and when we came to a standstill I could see that we were outside the upmarket lingerie and erotica boutique, Coco De Mer. Once inside the shop, John began picking up items, lingerie by Stella McCartney, a stainless steel butt plug and a pair of exquisitely designed nipple clamps with silver butterfly droppers. I began to think we were about to audition for the sequel to 50 Shades of Grey. These were all quickly and elegantly wrapped by the assistant, before we returned to the comfortable interior of the car.

"These are for our next meeting," he said handing the package to me, "now where can I drop you?"

I gave him the address and the car sped off in the direction of my apartment in Green Park. Before I left the car, he pressed an envelope into my hand. I knew he'd already paid up front for my escort services, so I was very surprised when I opened it later to find five crisp fifty pound notes. I guess he'd been pleased with my services.

If you're wondering whether I got to use my 'gifts', the answer is yes. In fact, John has become one of my regular clients. We meet every couple of months or so, always for lunch, and there's always some sort of sex toy or public sex act involved. To say that I eagerly await his call is a bit of an understatement, and my interest in submission has certainly increased. Let's just say that it's amazing the things you learn when you become one of Diva's London escorts.