morning crescent
I was in London for some reason I can’t remember, on the Northern Line.
The train stopped at the infamous Mornington Crescent station. The doors didn’t open.
Rather to my surprise, a young domme came out of one of the side corridors onto the platform, bringing along a blindfolded sub guy, her age, on a lead. They wandered down the platform, and vanished up another corridor before the train left. No one on the train commented.
What really amused me was her expression of dazed glee.