Marcia adjusted her ostrich feather boa so that it didn’t tickle her throat so much. She brushed a tendril of blonde hair off her face as she touched up her blue eyeshadow. She was expecting summons from H.E any moment now. He was at the reception of the royal wedding and for sure he would want her as soon as he could leave.

H.E always got a bit maudlin after any gathering at which love was celebrated. She’d watched the wedding on telly – he would definitely be drowning in it. Marcia’s job as one of his regular London escorts was to cheer him up and help him forget that he was widowed and alone.

She brushed some tangerine lipstick over her mouth before heading out. He had a townhouse in Oxbridge where they usually met and she picked up her purse as his driver drew up at her door.

The Lincoln town car was discreet for the area and the blacked out windows didn’t hurt either. Jeffery dropped her off at the front door and she let herself in with her key.

High heels clicked on the stone floor as she crossed to the stairs, climbing the flight slowly, not wanting to get sweaty or twist her ankle in her seven-inch heels.

She sauntered over to the bedroom, leaving the door open and took her coat off, settling herself on the throne chair that faced the bed. She was dressed in a soft patent leather corset and booty shorts with a garter and stockings. In her shoulder-length-opera-gloved hand was H.E’s favorite riding crop so she could paddle him good and proper.

She crossed her legs, foot tapping impatiently as she waited. The door burst open minutes later and H.E entered, looking hot and bothered, face red with exertion.

“Sorry, I’m late. I got here as soon as I could.”

Marcia stood slowly, eyes narrowed at him, “You know I don’t tolerate tardiness, Bertie. On your knees.”

“Should I undress first ma’am?” he asked meekly already unbuttoning his shirt.

“Do not question me, Bertie!” Marcia growled and H.E was down on his knees in a trice. Marcia sauntered over, giving him a once-over before swatting at his ass like a fly. He made a sound halfway between pain and pleasure.

“I did not say you could speak,” Marcia said.

He nodded and kept his silence as she beat him into orgasm.