1904 Mrs. Fox on Film

I thought that the whole thing was entirely implausible and slightly French but Mr Turner loved it, particularly as it had the 'put another Florin in the machine' appeal.

The revenue couldn't have come soon enough. Money was getting tight.

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Easter Monday, the Fourth of April and Weymouth put on her best clothes again. Train after train pulled into the Railway Station, each one full of happy people eager to spend the day and their money at the seaside. Easter Monday has always marked the start of the Summer Season.

The town was full but it made little difference to our seaside photographer. Day Trippers would not spend their precious time and cash having their portraits taken. His business was geared to the longer staying guests like Sir Gordon and Lady Tara.

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A hand written invitation was delivered to the studio. Would Mrs Fox care to join Lady Cynthia for afternoon tea at The Gloucester Hotel?

"How are you my dear? So lovely to see you again," said her ladyship, brightly.

We both exchanged pleasantries regarding how we had spent the Winter, the health of our husbands and all manner of light chitchat.

They do a lovely afternoon tea at the Gloucester.

Finally I asked the one question that I was burning to know the answers to, "Have you seen anything of Tara and Sir Gordon yet?"

"Oh, haven't you heard, the old fool went down with Glandular Fever at Christmas?" said Lady Cynthia.

"Sir Gordon is dead?" I blurted out.

"Oh no, but he was pretty bad for a while. He is on the mend now but Tara doesn't believe that they will be able to get to Weymouth before July.

"Forgive me, I didn't think, Mr Fox was probably looking forward to future commissions from Sir Gordon," apologised her ladyship.

"Well yes, but I didn't know that you were aware of their arrangement."

"I wasn't foolish enough to think that I would be the only one to take her clothes off in front of Mr Fox's lens. Besides, Tara and I are very close, she has shown me all of the erotic photographs that Sir Gordon purchased."

"Oh!" I said, colouring slightly.

"Don't be embarrassed, I'm not. You are very photogenic, my dear.

"As it happens, I may be able to help Mr Fox in the interim period," said Lady Cynthia.

"In what way?" I enquired, intrigued.

"Claud and I have a little difficulty that you and Mr Fox may be able to solve."

"Is Sir Claud failing to verbally abuse you in the bedroom?" I asked, recalling a previous problem that we had helped with.

"No, he has become quite the master at that. Although, it is my belief that Claud has been taking lessons from an Able Seaman and a Sergeant Major in the Royal Horse Artillery. I revel in his newly acquired vocabulary.

"It's just that Frederick informs me that Mr Fox has gone into the moving picture business, is that so?"

"Why yes, but how can he help you?" I enquired, wondering where this was leading.

"As you may know, Claud is a member of a very exclusive Gentlemen's Club.

"Well, the other evening they had a private showing of a French Erotic Film, by all accounts it was very tame.

"Afterwards, Claud and Snuffy Willis became embroiled in an earnest discussion in which they both claimed that they could produce a more thrilling motion picture.

"As you know, well-off gentlemen will bet on almost anything."

"Not just well-off ones," I interjected.

"Quite, but it is only a matter of two hundred pounds so it is not the money that is important," she said.

I couldn't help thinking that two hundred pounds would be important to me.

"If you don't mind me asking, if the money is not important why does Sir Claud mind losing it?"

"It's not that he minds losing, in fact it never usually bothers him. It is the fact that he would be losing to Snuffy Willis. They were at Eton together and there is a bit of history between them," clarified Lady Cynthia.

Suddenly things clicked into place. "Oh, I think I understand, Sir Claud proposes to write and direct an erotic film and he wishes Clive to produce it."

"Good grief no! I love the man dearly but he has no artistic tendency. What I am proposing is that, with your help, I write and direct such a film. At school, I did some amateur dramatics so I believe I could be quite good at it.

"I want to base it on a book that I have been reading," she informed me.

"Can I ask which book?"

"It is 'Travels in West Africa by Mary Kingsley'. Not the whole book you understand, just a little incident in which Miss Kingsley gets pestered," she laughed.

"I don't see why not. I don't think that Clive's ego would suffer as he's only interested in the mechanics."

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Over the next week or so we met each afternoon in the Alexandra Gardens. I believe that Lady Cynthia got a thrill from talking about pornography while strangers promenaded close by. She explained what she had in mind and how she proposed to execute her plan.

The Alexandra Gardens are lovely. When the first concerts are performed on the bandstand one knows that Summer has truly arrived.

Once, as we strolled and talked about costumes etc, I had to go to the rescue of a Nun.

The unfortunate Sister was frantically trying to swat a wasp away from her ice-cream cone. I managed to dissuade it with my parasol.

She was grateful for my assistance explaining, "I know it's naughty of me but I've been dreaming of a cornet for about a month and today I finally gave in to temptation. I know that Father Thomas will be very disapproving when I go to confession.

"I really don't mind. I am the bride of Christ, he will always absolve me."

We all have our weaknesses, I suppose, hers was ice-cream.

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Talking about the production was easy, turning it into something viable was a little more difficult. One of our old photographic backdrops had to be repainted to resemble an African jungle. Once the chaise longue had had various cushions randomly placed upon it and was covered with a grey blanket it looked just like a large rock.

Angel's, the theatrical costumiers, were making the outfits.

Finally, the appointed day dawned with ample sunlight to give the impression of an equatorial morning. Filming was due to commence at noon.

Clive checked the camera. Then he checked it again. It was to remain fixed upon the painted backdrop to maintain the illusion of a tropical location.

A little after eleven o'clock Vera strolled into the shop. "Good morning Mr Fox, Mrs Fox," she said cheerily.

"Good morning Vera, you are keen. Are you ready for your starring role?" Clive asked.

Vera bit her lip slightly and replied, "I was very much looking forward to it but there has been a development. I have received a proposal of marriage."

"Oh, how lovely. Who is the lucky man?" I squealed. I love a wedding.

"It's Mr Hanson, the landlord at the Crown where I work. I never knew that he had feelings for me but he confessed his love last night. We are to be wed in October when the season is over."

My first concerns were of a romantic nature. Mr Hanson is nearly sixty.

Clive's concerns were more practical, he asked, "You will still be able to make today's film, won't you?"

Vera replied, "Mr Hanson is of a very upright and moral disposition and he is adamant that he doesn't want anyone else fucking me until after we are married. Sweet man.

"I am afraid that I won't be able to do it. I'm sorry, I must dash, Mr Hanson is taking me to buy a ring."

With that she was gone.

For a moment Clive and I stood in silence then he said, "I must telephone Lady Cynthia and tell her that the filming is off."

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"No Mr Fox, that is simply not possible. The film is due to be shown in a week's time.

Cancelling its production now is not an option," said Lady Cynthia with authority.

Clive and I were seated close together so that I could hear both ends of the conversation.

"Without a leading lady I fail to see how we can continue, your Ladyship," he countered.

"I should think that that is obvious, Mrs Fox will have to step in. You have no choice."

Clive was dumbstruck for a moment but then he replied, "I am not sure that we would be comfortable with that."

"Correct me if I am mistaken, Mr Fox, but have I not seen photographic evidence that Frederick has been up to his balls in Mrs Fox before?

"Well yes, but............"

"And does the same photograph not clearly show that he has ejectulated in her?"

"That is true, but..........................."

"Then I fail to comprehend why you should object to it happening one more time, given the circumstances. Any other decision would be totally illogical, Mr Fox. Do you not agree?" argued Lady Cynthia.

"There may be something in what you say but I would need to talk to my wi..."

"No Mr Fox, I will speak to her. Kindly put her on the telephone.

"Hello my dear, I am sorry to be so forceful but it is imperative that we produce this film on time.

"Now tell me, when Frederick penetrated you was it painful or unpleasant?" she said.

"Well no, I can't honestly say that it was," I answered.

"If he were to fuck you one more time would it distress you at all?"

"Well no, I don't suppose that it would."

"Then tell Mr Fox that you are standing in for Vera."

I looked at Clive. He nodded his head gently.

"I believe that he has come to agree with your logic, m'lady."

"Good, we will see you just before noon.

"Oh and Mrs Fox, thank you, " Lady Cynthia said as she replaced the receiver on the hotel telephone.

A few seconds passed before I asked Clive, "And how do you really feel about it?"

"To tell you the truth, I find the prospect quite exciting. Is that wrong of me?"

"Thank goodness. If it was only me that was moved in that way I should have felt so guilty," I said.

"My only issue is that I am not sure how I will be able to crank the camera at a steady pace while I am feeling so aroused," remarked Clive.

"It may be advantageous if we both take edge of our lust," I suggested, turning, lifting my skirt and bracing myself against the desk."

He dropped his trousers and pushed his penis against the crack of my bottom. I believe that he was simply demonstrating how throbbing and stiff it was.

Clive said, "I must admit that since the accident with the police constable, I have occasionally wondered how I would have felt if Freddy had spent longer in you."

"Until today, I hadn't given it any consideration," I lied.

Clive slipped into me easily.

He gripped my hips and pumped for all his worth. He didn't last long. I didn't want longevity, passion was exactly what I desired in this instance.

Just as he ejectulated, the shop door bell clattered. In our haste we had forgotten to lock it. Clive jumped backwards and pulled his trousers into place. I dropped my skirt.

As we left the office Freddy said cheerily, "Morning Guvnor, morning Mrs Fox, nice day for it."

We both greeted him. Neither of us thought that we needed to inform him of the change of cast just yet.

A little before noon, the shop door crashed open nearly dislodging the bell. Sir Claud backed in carrying two picnic hampers. He was followed by Lady Cynthia, looking regal as ever.

"Steady Claud, don't break anything.

"Good day Mr Fox, Mrs Fox, Good day Frederick.

"Is everything ready?" she asked.

Freddy answered, "As usual, that saucy minx Vera is late and we can't really start without her."

"Ah Frederick, Vera is no longer available so there has been a last minute change of 'Dramatis Personae', I am afraid," advised Lady Cynthia.

"Will you be standing in for her, your ladyship?", enquired Freddy, more in hope than expectation.

Lady Cynthia swallowed hard, "Believe me, I did seriously consider it but it would not be fitting in this situation.

"May I remind you, Frederick, that while this enterprise requires a flexing of the social norms, you should not stretch the class boundaries too far.'

"Yes, sorry m'lady," mumbled Freddy, slightly crestfallen.

Crestfallen was not what her ladyship required of Freddy so she told him, "Mrs Fox has kindly agreed to deputise for Vera."

"Holly fuck!" exclaimed the young man.

"Quite so," said Lady Cynthia, "now take your costume into the store cupboard and change. I will assist Mrs Fox with hers in the darkroom."

Given what was about to transpire, I couldn't quite see the need for separate changing facilities but as her ladyship had pointed out the class boundaries had to be respected so it was probably correct.

A quarter of an hour later and everyone was in place. I was off screen to the left and Freddy was hiding. Clive was behind the camera with Lady Cynthia seated alongside him.

"Where should I be?" asked Sir Claud.

"Sit over there and don't say a word," suggested his wife, at least I presumed it was a suggestion.

"Now Mr Fox, what should I say when I wish you to start filming and the performance to start?"

"I believe that the professionals shout ACTION!, m'lady," said Clive.

"As you are always professional, that is what I shall say.

"Now into position everyone. Good Luck and ACTION!" shouted our director.

Clive started to crank the handle. I took two deep breaths and strolled into shot.

I put my field glasses to my eyes and looked around just as an intrepid female explorer would. Angel's had supplied me with a long skirt in a fetching shade of dust, a shirt of a similar hue and knee length boots and a belt in tan leather. The whole ensemble was topped off by a fawn sola topi and veil.

Walking the length of the chaise longue, sorry I mean rock, I turned and walked back again. All the time giving the impression that I was experiencing Africa for the first time.

"Now Frederick!" called her ladyship.

Freddy charged out from behind the rock, shrieking and going, "Ooooooo. Ooooooo. Oooooooooo."

Completely unnecessary on a silent film, I thought. I was supposed to pretend to be startled. The pretence wasn't called for, so loud was he that I was genuinely frightened.

Just as ordered, Angel's had made an excellent job of Freddy's suit of fur. It even had a long furry tail. The head was very realistic too. I wouldn't have known that it was Freddy had it not been for the vent that allowed his testicles and penis to hang out.

In its semi-erect state, everytime he swung his arms his penis and tail swung also.

"Eeeeeeeeek, eeeeeeeeek, eeeeeeeeek. Oooooooo, Ooooooo, oooooooo. Aaaaaaah, aaaaaaah, aaaaaaah!" he screeched loudly.

He ran around and around me, leaping and swinging as he went.

"Right Frederick, tease Mrs Fox and steal her field glasses."

He did just that, he ran behind me, bumped my backside and as I turned around he pulled the glasses from my grip.

Freddy ran behind the rock and peered over the top. When I went left, he went right and when I went right he went left.

"Now offer them to her, you know what to do," cried her ladyship.

He cavorted from his cover and made out he was returning my property. As I reached to take them, Freddy pulled my skirt right off and ran behind the rock with both items.

The whole left, right, right, left fiasco started again.

As I tried to look over the obstacle, Freddy ran an exaggerated circle between me and the camera, pulling off my shirt as he passed. Angel's had carefully constructed my clothing so that it appeared substantial yet could be ripped off easily.

I turned to face the front and put my hands on my hips in exasperation. There I stood in my corset and open drawers with the boots, belt and sola topi still in place.

"Freddy, return the glasses just as I told you," came the instruction.

He stole out from his hiding place and dropped the field glasses and then went back out of sight.

I cautiously walked towards them, looked around and bent over to retrieve the glasses. Freddy dashed from behind the other end of the rock, dropped to his knees and thrust his artificial monkey nose right into my private parts.

Frantically, I tried to smack him on the side of his head with the palm of my right hand. He fell backwards taking my drawers with him. I ran toward the thief, intent on clouting him hard.

Freddy didn't wait. He was off with the stolen underwear.

"Right come out from the other end and pester Mrs Fox."

He skipped around me and tried to grasp the field glasses. I stretched my arm up high to get them out of his reach. As I did so a large brown right nipple popped over the top of my corset. Freddy put his furry glove on it. I tried to swat him away rather like the Nun defending her ice-cream cornet.

The naughty boy ran behind me shrieking and trying to pull at my corset.

"That's it, you both know what to do next," directed Lady Cynthia.

I spun around hoping to inflict a hit upon his genitals. As I turned, I lost my balance and Freddy wrestled me to the ground. He pounced on the field glasses and made off with them.

Acting dazed, I crawled about on all fours ensuring that I showed my rear end to Lady Cynthia, Sir Claud, Clive and the camera. As I turned sideways to them. Freddy bounced out from behind the rock, his now fully erect penis swinging before him.

He nearly fell over me in his haste.

"Stay on your feet, squat down and enter Mrs Fox, that's it!" called the director.

Previously, I had dropped onto Freddy at speed. This time he slipped into me at a more controlled pace.

"Eeeeeeeeek, eeeeeeeeek, eeeeeeeeek," he cried.

I couldn't agree with him more. As her ladyship had so poetically put it, Freddy had been up to his balls in me before but this was premeditated. He was reaching an area where I'd rarely been touched.

He latched onto the leather explorer's belt and began to thrust forcefully.

Sir Claud shouted, "Go on, monkey fuck her!"

"Be quiet Claud, that's not very helpful.

"Yes, yes. Monkey fuck her," encouraged Lady Cynthia.

"Yes!" shouted Clive, a little to my surprise.

"Ooooooo, ooooooooo, oooooooo. Aaaaaaah, aaaaaaah, aaaaaaah!" cried Freddy.

My sentiments entirely.

Crouched as he was, the whole experience was so primitive. As Freddy slammed into me, his fur stroking my buttocks each time, I suddenly wondered what the camera was seeing? What Cynthia was seeing, what was being presented to Sir Claud and Clive? I was on all fours with what appeared to be a large simian fucking me from behind, his huge cock ramming into my cunt. Oh God, I never use that sort of language! I must have presented an image of the grossest indecency.

A shuddering orgasm followed the thought. It travelled up towards my sola topi and down to my boots.

Freddy felt it, he couldn't fail to feel it. He redoubled his effort, savouring the contractions.

Then he let himself go. "Eeeeeeeeek! Eeeeeeeeek! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!" he screamed as he ejectulated.

"Good man, monkey spunk her!" erged Sir Claude.

Lady Cynthia agreed, "Yes, yes!"

Clive let out a low animal groan.

I fell forward onto my face and lay there quivering. Freddy crouched over me and allowed the last of his semen to dribble on to my buttocks and corset.

Then he stumbled off behind the rock, glistening penis and furry tail swinging.

"CUT or Whatever they say!" shouted Lady Cynthia.

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"Hello. Weymouth 471."

"Hello," replied Clive.

He had suggested that I didn't wait up but I knew that I would not sleep unless he telephoned. Clive had travelled up to London to ensure that the projector was cranked at precisely the correct speed; at least that was what he had told Sir Claud.