Before there was Marble Arch, there was Notting Hill. That was where it all began — a quieter hotel room, a first taste of curiosity, and the moment he asked me for something I’d never tried before. Part 1, Secrets of Wetplay tells the start of his surrender, when the ropes were looser, the rules still new, and both of us learning how far trust could stretch. If you want to understand how we ended up at the edge of control in Marble Arch, you’ll need to go back to where it began.
I pulled at the ropes one more time, checking the knots the way you do when you want to be absolutely sure. Too tight, probably, but that was the point. Bondage has always been the part that stirs me most — the stillness, the way a man has to hand over everything just to stay there beneath me. It was only our third meeting, but the first time we’d pushed things this far. An outcall in Marble Arch wasn’t supposed to feel this intense, but somehow it did.
“Whose are you?” I asked, twisting my fingers into his hair until he had no choice but to look up at me.
“Yours, Miss.” Quick, certain, like he’d rehearsed it.
“And what do you want to do?” I pressed, though I already knew.
“Anything you want me to. I’m here to please you, Miss.”
The answers rolled off his tongue too smoothly, and yet I loved them. He understood what I needed to hear. Our earlier games — a bit of spanking, the muffled silence of a gag, some teasing humiliation — had been child’s play compared to this. Tonight was different. Tonight, I was showing him what it meant to be at the mercy of a bondage escort in London.
I climbed over him, corset laced tight, short skirt grazing just enough to taunt. He was stripped bare; I stayed dressed. That imbalance mattered. He wasn’t here to take from me, only to feel what I decided to give. A whip swung lightly from my hand, brushing his chest before I raised it. His throat bobbed, but he held my gaze.
The first lash painted his skin, the second drew a sharp breath from his lungs. I ran my nails over the red marks, making the sting last. His body trembled, but not in fear. Every sound he made was anticipation, and when I finally leaned close and whispered, good boy, he almost sagged with relief.
But we weren’t finished. He’d asked for something new — something that edged into the forbidden. And so I gave it to him, slowly, carefully. His first taste of a wet play experience in London, the kind of surrender that leaves a man uncertain if he should flinch or lean closer. His muscles tensed, then gave way, and that was when I knew I had him.
By the end, he shook beneath the ropes, skin lined with leather’s memory, but more importantly marked by trust. Submission for him, control for me. And for both of us, a night in Marble Arch that would haunt the senses long after the ropes were gone.
✨ Book your own outcall in Marble Arch with a bondage escort in London who offers wet play sessions. Step into a world where control and surrender blur, and every detail is designed to test, tease and satisfy.