Wednesday, 31 January 2018

Chapter 29: “It’s her Ladyship likes the big breakfast, sir!”

Hoxton Hall


Journalist Edmund Molloy has just experienced his first debauched night at the birthday weekend of Lord Hoxton, his companion for the forthcoming dinosaur quest to South America.  He had to endure watching his sweetheart Daisy performing an intimate act upon her former lover Genral Wilkinson.  As a result he succumbed to a sexual advance from Sutton, Lord Hoxton's lady butler. Although Daisy later proclaimed her love for him he is increasingly unhappy about attending the house party and went to bed before the other guests.

I awoke early, lying on my right side as I usually did.  I lay naked in the big four poster bed. I had dispensed with wearing nightclothes since my first encounter with Edith Challenor.  I enjoyed the sensation of being naked and could now understand the Germans’ new fascination for it.  The air in the bedroom felt cold, however, so there was no great incentive to arise. There was a thin chink of light at the top of the curtains but barely enough to provide any illumination. I rolled onto my back and became immediately aware of someone in bed to my left.  The person I had touched in the night. I looked carefully at the head on the pillow, some three feet away and was certain it was Daisy, although she was turned away from me.  A rush of relief flowed through me.  I had been convinced, after I had left them all in the early hours of the morning, that she would have gone with the general.  But no, she had returned to me, although that didn’t mean that she hadn’t gone with the general first.  

I recalled Edith wantonly taking Sir Jonty in the Turkish Salon.  What if Daisy had put on a similar performance after I had left?  However, if she had returned to me how could I then excuse my behaviour with Sutton? What would Daisy think?  Should I be honest and tell her or should I not? Particularly as I did not want to hear her escapades, I realised, as I would rather be in ignorance of them. Despite these ponderings upon moral rectitude, my manhood became engorged as I thought upon the activities which had taken place last night. I took myself in hand and stroked myself gently.  I contemplated shifting across the bed to Daisy.  Of placing my knob against her bottom.  Of sliding myself into her arsehole while she slept.  What would it be like to penetrate that forbidden entrance? To bugger her.  To sodomise her. She had, however, made it quite clear that she would not participate in such activity.  Edith, however had seemed most interested in the idea.  Perhaps she had already done the deed.  Perhaps Sir Jonty had taken her up the rectum. Or Hoxton.  Or the general.  I shuddered at the latter thought.

I let go of myself and carefully climbed out of bed.  There was no sign of Edith or Britten.  Edith, I realised, I had lost.  She had now determinedly moved on from me.  Our brief romance, I hoped it was that, but a cherished interlude. An image of Sir Jonty Smarme’s manhood penetrating her came into my head.  She was probably with him. Britten would have been delighted with his carnal escapades last nigh.  A woman who he had not paid for. That had been his aim for the weekend.  Something that he had comprehensively achieved. I just wish he hadn’t taken Edith and she hadn’t succumbed quite so readily.

I crept about looking for my clothes.  My case had been unpacked by the maids, so the clothes were in the wardrobe and drawers, I supposed.  I tried to open one of the drawers but it was old and stiff.  If I yanked on it it might make a noise and wake Daisy and as I had no idea what time she had gone to bed I decided to leave it.  It was then that I spotted my pyjamas on the chair next to my bed, where I had placed them after finding that one of the maids had laid them out on the bed.  My own dressing gown was neatly folded and placed on another chair.  Hoxton’s silk one was still on the floor where I had discarded it the night before. I put on my slippers, which had been placed by the side of the bed, picked up my wash bag and a towel and stepped out into the corridor.  All was quiet up here but I could hear some sounds of activity downstairs. I knew where the water closet was and I sat and defecated, wondering at the life of the poor girls who had to empty these simple earth lavatories.  I performed my ablutions, using the ewer and basin provided.  I could not believe that Hoxton had no modern plumbing.  I would have liked a bath.  It was like staying at my my great aunt Colleen’s sea weathered cottage in County Kerry. 

I descended the staircase but found no sign of life.  How late had the others been to bed?  Three? Four? Five?  Later, perhaps.  I looked at the clock at the bottom of the stairs and it showed nearly eight o'clock.  I had not slept much myself, I supposed but I despised waking late.  Perhaps I could take a nap in the afternoon, especially if the ladies were in their planned harem in the Turkish Salon.

“Good morning, sir!” said a bright feminine voice.  I turned around and saw the redheaded maid, Ruby from Ulster.  She was the one who had undressed me so sensuously the previous night.

“Good morning, Ruby!” I said.  “Do I detect the smell of breakfast?”

“Yes indeed, sir.  In the dining room, if you please.  You are the first one up, so you are.  Did you have a nice time last night?”

“I am still not sure,” I said, truthfully, “but I did enjoy the lovely attention from such a very pretty girl after dinner when you helped me change!”

“Thank you, sir!”  She actually blushed and looked at her feet.  She was, like myself, pale skinned and had auburn hair.  We could have been brother and sister.  She looked very trim in her crisp maid’s uniform.

“So what is for breakfast?” I asked, as she led me to dining room. My head felt sore and I thought that a hearty breakfast might settle my headache.  I could not believe, this morning, that I had copulated with Daisy in front of a room full of people.  I vowed to limit my intake of alcoholic drinks tonight.  If there was even to be a tonight.  I still had some hope of persuading Daisy to return with me to London.

“Well, we have fried eggs, scrambled eggs, poached eggs, soft boiled eggs, hard boiled eggs, bacon, black pudding, pork sausages, beef sausages, bubble and squeak, grilled tomatoes, pork chops, lamb chops, kidneys, smoked haddock, oysters, kedgeree, toast, marmalade, apricot jam, tea and coffee sir.  Champagne too, if you want it, so we have!”

“Well, that sounds comprehensive!” I laughed.  “It sounds like the picnic from The Wind in the Willows!”  I had read that entertaining story to the young granddaughter of an aunt, several years ago.

“Oh I loves that book, sir, so I do.  Cook is helping me improve my reading using it, so she is!”

“Well, I suppose I am not surprised that Lord Hoxton likes a hearty breakfast!” I said.

“It’s not his Lordship, sir.  He eats modestly to stay in fine shape.  It’s her Ladyship likes the big breakfast, sir!”

“Oh!  I see!”  Lady Caroline hardly looked like she had the figure of a woman who attacked a large cooked breakfast.  Although I could imagine her devouring oysters with Champagne for breakfast.

“Here we are, sir!”  She guided me towards the oriental dining room door, which she opened for me.  I stepped inside and looked straight into the face of a woman sat at the far end of the table.

“Your Ladyship, may I introduce Mr Edmund Molloy.  Mr Molloy, the Dowager Baroness Hoxton!”

I froze.  So this must be Hoxton's stepmother; the one he told us about last night, his former nanny. The first women he had...

“Ah, you must be my second course!  How thoughtful, Ruby.  Just what I fancy!” she said, observing me keenly.

“Her Ladyship arrived earlier this morning from Southampton.  She has travelled from France,” said Ruby, grinning.

“Well, young man, don’t just stand there gawping like a schoolboy at the zoo, come down here so I can look at you properly and size you up!” she said.  I walked down the long table feeling her appraise everything about me. She was staggeringly beautiful with mahogany brown hair, brown eyes and a full mouth. She was dressed in a burgundy coloured day dress. I think Hoxton had said that she was fifty six but she looked the same age as Edith or Lady Caroline, who were both in their early forties.

As I approached her she held out her hand.  On a whim I bent forward and lightly kissed her fingers.  “Lady Hoxton,” I said.

“Well, what an unexpectedly continental greeting, do sit next to me, dear!” she smiled at me.  I was about to pull my chair out when Sutton did it for me.  I hadn’t even seen her enter the room.

“Tea or coffee, sir?” asked Sutton.

“Tea, please Sutton,” I said, not daring to look at her.

“So, Mr Molloy. You are not the usual type of gentleman that James invites to his birthday party!”

“Am I not, Lady Hoxton?” I said.  She hadn’t taken her eyes off me and I was starting to wilt under her gaze.

“No, indeed.  James prefers influential, older men, not those who might offer any sort of physical...competition.  You are a very physical specimen, Mr Molloy.  You are obviously fit and move with a great deal of confidence.  You do not look like a military man, as you do not have that rigidity about your trunk.  Hmm.  A sportsman, I think, but rather more than an occasional player, am I correct?”

“You are exactly right, Lady Hoxton. I am a winger for London Irish.  A rugby team.”

“I know perfectly well who London Irish are, Mr Molloy.  You must be very fit indeed!”  I jumped as she clamped her hand on my thigh and squeezed.  “Goodness me, that is impressive!”  Sutton arrived with the teapot and poured it for me.  Lady Hoxton, I noticed was drinking coffee and had a Viennese, crescent pastry on her plate.

“So what do you think of our Mr Molloy, Sutton?” asked Lady Hoxton.

“He is a very nice, polite and respectful gentleman!” said Sutton.

“Well that does make me wonder why on earth he has been invited down here for this debauched weekend,” said Lady Hoxton, tearing her pastry apart rather forcefully. She looked directly at me as she did so.  I gulped.

“He is a reporter, your Ladyship, and will be accompanying his Lordship on his expedition to South America next week!” said Sutton.

“Ah, of course!  The famous dinosaur hunting expedition.  It was covered briefly in the French newspapers. They think you are all quite mad, of course.  The only real discussion was as to what, if you do find dinosaurs, they might taste like!”  She laughed.  “As you would expect from the French!  Now, Ruby, let us both get some cooked breakfast served!”

I was frankly amazed at the amount of food Lady Hoxton put away that morning.  I had thought Daisy ate a lot. Lady Hoxton was a leisurely eater but ploughed through two large platefuls while she interrogated me about my life.  By this time I was able to give a succinct description of my life to date, as so many had been asking after it.  She was very interested in my artistic experiences.  “I was never very good at painting,” I admitted.  “My teachers thought I might have some colour blindness but I have some facility with charcoal, pencil and pen and ink.”

“So what do you like to draw, Mr Molloy?” she said, buttering her fourth slice of toast.

“Landscapes, animals, old buildings,” I said, carefully.

“Nudes, Mr Molloy?”

“Of course I have done them.  At art school. It is an important discipline in learning to draw propely.”

“So how disciplined are your nudes, Mr Molloy.  Do you prefer them tight or loose?”  She gave me a wicked look.  “As regards drawing style, of course!”

“I enjoy both the finished well rendered drawing and the quick impressionistic sketch, Lady Hoxton.”

“And who is your favourite subject?”

“I have drawn a number of ladies. In fact, Lord Hoxton commissioned some from me!”

“Did he now?  He does love his naked ladies, of course. Of that appalling creature Caroline, I suppose.  The music hall star, to give more respectability to her profession than she actually merits.”

“Yes, Lady Caroline,” I said.  I decided it best not to mention her daughters.

“She is passing attractive, I suppose, in poor light but you could drive a London omnibus up her cunny with space on either side!” said Lady Hoxton. “James  has such a slim pizzle I would be amazed if he actually makes contact with her walls at all but then he is mostly up her arse!” I heard Ruby snigger and I tried not to choke on my toast at this unexpected vulgarity.

“Do you know my background, Mr Molloy?” she asked, still looking at me intently.

“I have heard you were Lord Hoxton’s nanny,” I ventured, carefully, “but from a very good family background,” I added, diplomatically.

“Indeed.  No doubt he has told the story of his sexual awakening at my hands?”  I nodded imperceptibly. “Do not think for a moment that my and Caroline’s stories are similar.  She was a cheap whore with a big bosom who slept her way into the music hall and then slept her way into a title.  Everything she has achieved she has done either on her back with her legs open or on her knees with her mouth open, if you will forgive the crudity.  She has some polish now but deep down she is just the same grubby, prick sucking dollymop she always was.  And those daughters of hers!  Heavens above, they seem to be proceeding down the same path. Are they here, this weekend?”  I nodded. “Trollops, both of them!”

“They all seem somewhat relaxed as regards, er, physical pleasure,” I ventured.

“Well, I enjoy a good tumble as much as anyone, although I hope that I have some kind of standards and particularity.  Caroline was at it with Sir Gerald Crozier’s stableboy the first time she visited their house in Sussex. James didn't seem to care as he was soon up Daphne Crozier himself.  Although my mother was Lord Hoxton’s first nanny she was a family friend and properly educated.  She, like myself, could read and write French, Latin and Ancient Greek, play the pianoforte, solve geometric problems and was very well read.  She taught me in turn and living here I had access to old Lord Hoxton’s library which I devoured at the rate of four or five books a week.  James is not a great reader.  If you can’t shoot it, eat it, drink it, ride it or fornicate with it he has no interest in it!  Still, I am very fond of him but I do think that whore Caroline is after a second marriage.  Little does she know that James’ period of focus on any woman is a couple of years at the very most and then without any exclusively. She has reached the end of her entertainment period for him, I suspect!  Two years this weekend and he was away for much of that time.  Has he now had the daughters too?  I met them in London when he returned from Brazil.”  I shrugged, pretending not to know.  “If he has, he has achieved his target of a mother and daughters and Caroline will be discarded like a used piece of toilet tissue.  Another trip to South America would be an excellent opportunity for him to drop her back into the sewer from which she crawled.”

“Lord Hoxton does not seem short of alternative admirers,” I said.

“Indeed, such as the likes of that girl whose naked photograph is next to the visitors’ book.  Pretty little thing, although, unlike Caroline, I have no interest in physical relations with other women.  It all seems rather peculiar to me.  It is a fashion thing, perhaps.  Very popular in Paris.”

“That is Daisy, my particular friend!” I said.  “The naked girl!”

“Well James will have her off you by the end of the weekend.  Above all else he does like a nice firm rump and hers looked just about perfect!  Much prefers sodomy these days.  I blame Eton.”

“Er, Daisy does not engage in that particular...”

“Vice?  Good for her.  She may yet be saved.  If you don’t take it up the arse you won’t be of interest to James for long.  I don’t mind it myself once in a while, to make him happy, but it isn’t something I would seek out!” She looked at me and frowned.  “I am not shocking you am I?  I assumed that as you were here for the weekend you would be aware of the nature of the activity here.  Another debauchee. Perhaps I am wrong.”

“Not at all, Lady Hoxton.  I have lost my ability to be shocked by anything that women say, these last weeks.  I came down here with Daisy well aware of what goes on.  Daisy is a game girl and is interested in experimenting, I think.”  I was going to deny being a debauchee but realised that my activities of the past weeks made me exactly that.  At least I had not partaken of the cocaine.

“Well, I look forward to meeting her.  Now, do you think that you would be able to draw me this morning?”

“Naked?” I asked, anxiously.

“Well, actually I was just going to suggest a conventional portrait.” She looked amused.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that...” I stammered.  I could feel myself blushing.

“But come to think of it that might be more appropriate for this weekend.  I was recently drawn by Monsieur Pierre Bonnard, who lives not far from me in the South of France.  In the bathroom.  Perhaps you could do something similar?”

“I...I don’t think I could compete with Bonnard,” I said.

“I am sure you are very capable!  James would not have commissioned work from you otherwise.” she said. “Now, would you like some more sausages?  I love sausages!  Can’t get them in France.  Not proper ones.  Here we also have that new HP sauce as well, which complements them so perfectly.”  She pointed at a small silver bowl with the brown condiment in it.

“Did someone say sausages?” asked Daisy, walking into the dining room, wearing her dressing gown and not, I was glad to see, Hoxton’s silk one from the previous night.  I introduced her to Lady Hoxton who indicated that she sit the other side of her, opposite me.

“I was just warning Mr Molloy that you should watch out for James.  He is an incorrigible plucker, to use his amusing euphemism, of pretty young women, although you are rather more than pretty, I think.  Your photograph does not do you justice.  Not to your face, anyway!” said Lady Hoxton. “You are, in fact, very beautiful.”

“Thank you Lady Hoxton, although I don’t mind an occasional plucking!” said Daisy.

“You are a naughty girl.  I can see why James invited you!” said Lady Hoxton.

“In fact, he hadn’t met me until I arrived yesterday, although he had seen my photograph in the newspaper,” she said.

“In the newspaper, indeed.  And what merited your appearance on the breakfast tables of England?” asked Lady Hoxton.

“I wrote an article about the unfair double standards applied to men and women as regards what is and isn’t acceptable as regards the romantic behaviour of unmarried couples,” said Daisy, accepting some tea.

“Did you now?  Well there is more to you than your saucy portrait might suggest!” The two women embarked on a discussion about women’s suffrage.  I had not realised that Australia and New Zealand had already given votes to women.  We were interrupted by the arrival of Lady Crozier and Edith, who were also both still wearing Hoxton’s silk dressing gowns although, now that I looked carefully, I think they may have been wearing each other’s from the previous night. Lady Crozier and Lady Hoxton obviously knew each other and embraced, warmly.  As they were served breakfast, discussion turned to the expedition and, with interjections from Edith, I gave an account of the Professor’s lecture. Lady Hoxton was surprised when she discovered who Edith was and asked if her husband was present for the weekend.

“George and I are close in all but one very important personal aspect of life.  I admit to seducing young Edmund for my selfish pleasure but now we have become friends too.  Daisy is now Edmund’s young lady, although I enjoy her companionship too!” said Edith.

“Companionship?  In the English manner or the French?”  Edith looked baffled.

“In the French, Lady Hoxton,” I interjected.

“Well, it all sounds positively operatic.  You are obviously a far naughtier boy than I had imagined, Edmund.  Excellent!”  She patted me on the leg again.  “Your young man has splendid thighs, Miss Thompson!”

“Every part of him is splendid, Lady Hoxton,” said Daisy.

“Definitely a naughty girl, Miss Thompson but then your photograph makes that quite clear!”

“I am a good girl with naughty tastes, your Ladyship,” said Daisy.  Lady Hoxton smiled at her.

“Well, to return to our initial discussion, it strikes me, if you will forgive me Mrs Challenor, to be patently absurd to imagine that creatures that became extinct everywhere else on earth sixty five million years ago still exist in South America,” said Lady Hoxton.  “Even if they had survived whatever it was that caused the dinosaurs to disappear from the Earth, surely they would have carried on evolving into completely different creatures by now?  If we are to believe Mr Darwin.  Lizard men, perhaps?”

"Like the general," I said, cruelly.  Daisy gave me a scolding look.

“I agree that it sounds fanciful and the more I think on the matter the more it sounds like some sort of elaborate hoax but without an expedition it is impossible to prove one way or the other!” said Edith. "There do seem to be surviving flora on the plateau that were once thought extinct.  And as for all creatures evolving, well, the crocodilians are, essentially, exactly as they were hundreds of millions of years ago."

“Those are fair points, Mrs Challenor,” said Lady Hoxton.  “Now where on earth is James? Although I suspect I know.  I just hope he gives it a good wash afterwards!” Daisy spluttered into her tea. 

“Lady Hoxton is not a great friend to Lady Caroline,” said Lady Crozier, spreading some apricot jam on her toast.

“You can take the woman out of the whorehouse but you can’t take the whorehouse...” began Lady Hoxton.  She stopped as the door opened but it was Britten, also dressed.   Introductions were made.

“Lady Hoxton, if I may be so bold, you are quite the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, let alone met and in this company,” he indicated the others at the table, “that is a rare achievement!”

“Why thank you Britten, your compliment to me is well taken!” I said.  The others laughed but Britten’s flattery had been well received by Lady Hoxton who had me move to sit next to Lady Crozier, so Britten could sit in my place.

“So did you sleep well, Lady Crozier?” I asked her, watching Britten do his usual flattering job on Lady Hoxton.

“Quite well, considering Edith, William, my husband and I were rather tightly packed!” said Lady Crozier.  “I do enjoy waking up surrounded by warm naked flesh. I do think that we may have exhausted poor old Gerald this morning, however.  He fell asleep again!  Are you feeling better this morning, Edmund?  We were concerned for you last night.  You seemed out of sorts.”

“Yes much better, thank you, Lady Crozier,” I replied.  For some reason I was happy that Daisy and Edith had been with the Croziers and not Hoxton or the general.

“Daphne, please, given everything last night, don’t you think?”

“Indeed!” A vision of her taut bottom sprang into my head.  “It has been a very busy few weeks and I confess to some trepidation now that our expedition is imminent!”

“I can quite understand that.  I wouldn’t want to be eaten by a dinosaur. Wednesday isn’t it?  I will persuade Gerald to take me to see you all off.  Are you leaving from Southampton?”

“Liverpool!” I replied.

“Oh, of course, for South America.  Booth Lines.  Well that is a bit of a bugger but I can’t say that I have ever been to Liverpool, so it would be an adventure in itself!”

“There will be a band and the Lord Mayor of Liverpool is seeing us off!” said Daisy.

“It sounds fun!  I will certainly ask Gerald.  Ah, here he is!”  Sir Gerald came into the dining room fully dressed for a day of sport in the country, which I suppose it was.  Lady Crozier stood up and kissed him on the lips.  He walked to the head of the table and kissed Lady Hoxton on the cheek.

“Good morning Gerald, you reprobate!” she said, squeezing his hand, affectionately.

“I was just saying that we should go up to Liverpool and watch Edmund, James and Daisy sail off to South America this week!” said Lady Crozier after he had sat down, having greeted Daisy and Edith, who gave him a wink.

“Splendid idea.  We can stay at the Midland Adelphi!  I always stayed there before I left for Brazil!” said Sir Gerald.

“Unfortunately it has been demolished, Sir Gerald,” said Edith.  

“George is staying in the North Western!”

“Oh well, that will have to do!”

Ruby, the maid appeared with another silver chafing dish.

“Excellent! More breakfast!” said Lady Hoxton.  Perhaps she had a tapeworm, I thought.

The general appeared with Sarah on his arm and they were quickly followed by Sir Jonty, Elizabeth and Emily.  The men were both dressed but the ladies were still in dressing gowns.  I realised that I was the only man not dressed.  More breakfast appeared but the ladies, excepting Daisy, did not eat much.

Suddenly there was the honk of a horn and the sound of a motor engine coming from outside.  Lady Hoxton stood up and looked out of the window.  “Ah the prostitutes have arrived.  What joy.”  I immediately wanted to leap up too but thought that would not go down well with Lady Hoxton.  Sir Gerald was obviously not so concerned as he stood next to her and looked out of the window as well.  He was joined by Elizabeth, Emily and Sarah.

“Oh what fun, they have come in an omnibus!” said Elizabeth. 

“So many of them!  Look at their gorgeous hats! Look, Sir Gerald, the Turkish twins!  The harem can begin!” said Sarah.

“Look at that blonde!  I like her!” said Emily.  I looked at Britten and could see he was dying to get up.

“Personally, everything I could dream of as regards feminine beauty, passion, wit, intelligence and elegance is in this room!” I said, before Britten came up with some equally simpering remark.

Lady Hoxton turned from the window, smiled and nodded at me.

“Well as our host and hostess are no doubt still rutting way I suppose I had better greet them, although it is a scandal that James lets them in the main entrance!” said Lady Hoxton.  "They are, after all, just paid help."

In fact we all left the dining room to walk to the main entrance hall, Lady Hoxton leading us like the flagship of the Channel Fleet. When we arrived in the hall the ladies from the Babylon Exploration Society, all dressed in white, were all inside, while Sutton and the maids attended to their bags, helped by the impressive figure of Jacob who, I assumed, had driven the bus.

Bonjour, Madame Le Brun! Bonjour à tous!” said Lady Hoxton.

“Lady Hoxton,” said Madame Nathalie and gave a deep and elegant curtsey.  All the other girls followed her as one.  The effect was quite impressive. The corner of Lady Hoxton’s mouth twitched as she suppressed a smile. “Let me introduce you to James’s guests, although I have only just met most of them myself. Here we have Miss Daisy Thompson, suffragette writer and artistic photographic model.”

“Miss Thompson’s face is well known.  She is ze most famous woman in Britain at present!” said Madame Nathalie.

“Is she now?” said Lady Hoxton looking at Daisy with renewed interest,  “Lady Crozier you know, although not as well as her husband, I believe!”

“Indeed, your Ladyship!” said Madame Nathalie.  I saw Britten trying not to laugh.  She had just pronounced it ‘lady sheep’, amusingly.

She introduced the rest of us and Madame Nathalie did not acknowledge that she had met either myself or Britten before, although I saw Hoshimi giving me a shy little smile. Most of the girls I didn’t know, although I was glad to see Anna and Bettina.  Another girl’s face looked familiar although I could not immediately place her. She was at the back, partly obscured by the large hat of the girl in front of her. I must have seen her at the Society’s premises. At this point Lord Hoxton and Lady Caroline appeared.  Hoxton in his dressing gown and black Turkish slippers on his otherwise bare legs.  Lady Caroline was wearing a colourful, Japanese style silk robe, undone at the front to reveal glimpses of her breasts and dark fleece.  Lady Hoxton gave her a withering look and she hurriedly tied her waist belt.

“The other prostitutes are here, James,” said Lady Hoxton, looking at Lady Caroline. “Perhaps you should attend to them!”

“Ladies, welcome to Hoxton Hall, especially those who have not been here before. Now, now, Molly!” said Hoxton, turning to his stepmother.  “All must he sunny and happy for my birthday weekend.  I don’t want any of your French style disdain!” he stepped forward to embrace her and she slipped into his arms and pressed herself against his body to receive her kiss. 

“I am sorry, James I am tired. Now I am sure that Caroline needs some breakfast after all her exertions this morning.  So why don’t I take you upstairs and bathe and dress you as in the old days.  We really cannot have you wandering the halls in just your dressing gown.  You are not in Constantinople now and we are not in the Turkish fashion quite yet, today. Mr Molloy is still in his pyjamas but he is Irish and was first up.

“Sorry, Nanny,” said Hoxton, grinning.“Can I have breakfast first?”

“No you cannot!  If you will excuse us everyone,” said Lady Hoxton. Hoxton followed her meekly up the stairs.

“Well he won’t have a single drop of spunk left, if that’s what she is after!” said Lady Caroline after they had disappeared.

“Mummy, why doesn’t Lady Hoxton like you?” asked Sarah.

“Yes why?” said Emily.

“Other than the fact that I am seventeen years younger and have a better figure? Do you know the Brothers Grimm tale of Snow White?”  Sarah and Emily nodded.

“And who is Snow White’s enemy?” asked Lady Caroline, as we walked back to the dining room.

“The wicked stepmother!” answered Sarah.

“Yes.  Precisely.  The evil stepmother.  Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the biggest fucking bitch of all?” said Lady Caroline.

“Mummy, you are funny!” said Sarah, taking her arm.
.



Upstairs Daisy, Edith, Britten and I stood in the bedroom as the ladies discussed what to wear.  Lady Caroline had reminded Edith and Daisy about their harem for the day and told them to wear something loose.

“Perhaps I should just go like this!” said Daisy, removing her dressing gown and dropping it on the floor to reveal her naked body.  For some reason she looked more naked in the bright sunlight coming through the bedroom window than she had in the Turkish Salon.

“Good Lord!” said Britten.

“Perhaps we should,” said Edith, similarly disrobing.  Someone had lit a fire while we were having breakfast and the bedroom was now much warmer than first thing.  Daisy and Edith embraced and giggled.  Daisy put her hands on Edith’s bottom.  “Isn’t this fun Daisy?  I feel twenty years younger!  Completely carefree!  We can do anything we like this weekend.”

“I thought you already had!” I said, rather more acidly than I intended.

“Don’t be such a grouch!” said Daisy.  “Come, let us all embrace together.  We are best friends. After all!”

“Splendid idea!” said Britten.

“You have to remove your clothes, William,” said Daisy.  “It must be a naked embrace!”

“Right ho!” said Britten, getting out of his clothes faster than I thought possible. The two women watched him keenly.  He pushed down his drawers and was already completely erect.

“How lovely!” said Edith.  “Come along Edmund!  Don’t be a spoilsport!”  Grudgingly I removed my dressing gown and pyjamas so that I was naked as well. I entered the embrace of the other three trying desperately to avoid any skin to skin contact with Britten.

“Closer, Edmund.  It doesn’t matter if your cocks touch!” said Daisy.

“Rather the opposite,” said Edith.  Nevertheless. I managed to avoid any intimate contact with Britten, despite his rampant state. We broke apart into two couples after a few seconds and Edith began stroking Britten’s manhood. Daisy stood in front of me and I started to respond to the feel of the naked skin of her back against my manhood.

“Oh Edmund, That’s better!” she said, feeling behind her to grasp me in her soft hand. “Edith, what can we possibly do?  We have two very excited men here.  It seems a shame to leave them in throbbing frustration!”

“Indeed it does, dear Daisy! Let us gamahuche them!” said Edith.  She knelt down in front of Britten and popped her mouth over his knob.

“Good Lord!” said Britten looking down at her as she started to bob her head backwards and forward.

“Lovely!” said Daisy and guided me over so that I was standing next to Britten.

“Not too close!” I said.

“We want to be able to watch each other!” said Daisy.  She played with me with her fingers before squatting down and starting to lick my member. Soon she was noisily gamahucing me too. She was also frigging herself.  After a while she popped off me and patted Edith on the shoulder.  “Time to swap!” she said.  Before I could say anything the two women had changed places and I looked down at Edith taking me into her mouth for the first time for days. She beagn to caress my ballocks too. I glanced to my left, horrified, to see Daisy slurping and dribbling on Britten’s cock. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Hands off, Britten!” I said.

“Sorry, old chap!” he said withdrawing his hands as if he had touched the door of a hot oven.

“Oh Edmund!  Really!” said Daisy and then renewed her pleasuring of my best friend.  She grasped his bottom.

“Isn’t it time to swap back?” I said. The women ignored me.

“I don’t think we are in charge here, old chap!” said Britten. “Oh my goodness!” he exclaimed.  Daisy stopped moving as it became obvious that Britten was spurting in her mouth.  She pulled off his dripping cock, looked up at me, smiled and swallowed.

“Lovely sperm!” said Daisy. Edith carried on working on me but the shock of seeing Britten ejaculating into Daisy’s mouth had quite discombobulated me. After a while she pulled off me leaving me wet and rampant.

“Poor Edmund is not, I think, really happy with orgies!” she kissed my member and stood up.

“Men are peculiar!” said Daisy.  “We girls love enjoying each other’s bodies!”

“It is not a usual peccadillo,” I said. "You are exceptional!"

“Unusual!” said Edith.  “But this is a weekend for unusual behaviour!  Perhaps Britten might have more success upon you, Edmund!”

“Happy to give it a go!” said Britten.

“Somehow I think that won’t work!” said Daisy.  “Although it would be a fabulous thing to witness!”

“I know!  Let us gamahuche each other, Edith, and then Edmund can frig himself while he watches!” suggested Daisy.

“Actually, I am quite alright,” I said.  “I am glad you all enjoyed yourself but I think I will just get dressed, if that is acceptable!”

“Not really!” muttered Daisy but I was already pulling on my underthings.  I dressed in silence while Edith made Britten sit on the bed with her. “Please don’t be cross!” begged Daisy.

“I am not cross.  I feel unwell.  I will take a walk in the grounds and see you all in due course!” I said.  I left the room, leaving Daisy to climb over Edith’s body in the soixante-neuf position as Britten knelt up, eagerly, to watch.

In the corridor outside I met Elizabeth, still in her dressing gown.

“I am looking for Daisy and Edith.  It is time for our harem in the Turkish Salon!” she said.  A shaft of sunlight from one of the old leaded windows caught her face and hair, illuminating her like a girl from a pre-Raphaelite painting.

“They are having an intimate episode!” I said.

“Aren’t we all!” said Elizabeth, brightly.  “Isn’t it wonderful!  Daddy invited the general in just before breakfast and he took me from the rear!  What fun it is.  You are on my dance card for today, Mr Molloy.  There is a naked ball.  We will dance and then...fuck!”

“I..I am not sure!” I said.

“But daddy said you would!” she approached me, looking upset and perhaps a little petulant. She stepped into an embrace which I meant not to give.  Her sweet, innocent face looked as if it was about to burst into tears.  I stroked her lovely hair, more gold than red in the bright sunlight. “Please!  It’s not as if you have just met me, after all!”

“Perhaps, with Daisy...” I said, desperately fighting an urge to stroke her silk clad bottom.

“Yes!  Splendid!” she said. “Where are you off to now?”

“For a walk in the garden!” I replied.

“The weather has been lovely of late has it not?  I cannot remember so many sunny days at this time of year!” she said. “However, I really must collect Daisy and Edith.  I will see you anon!” she kissed me softly on the mouth.  Thinking of Daisy gamahuching Britten I returned her kiss, placed my hands on her posterior and we stayed in that position for some seconds, my manhood responding to her touch.

“Oh Edmund!  We will have such fun later!” she said. "I am wet with anticipation!" She headed towards our bedroom.

“Britten is in there as well!” I warned.  “They are all naked!”

“Lovely!” she said and blew me a kiss.  She was already undoing the belt of her dressing gown as she opened the door.  She squealed and rushed in.  I descended the stairs again and met Crozier, Hoxton and Smarme in the hallway.

“What ho, Molloy!” boomed Hoxton. “Been up to no good this morning, I hope!” I blushed and he chuckled. “Must say that if I had a gel like Daisy around, me ballocks would be as drained as a holed coconut!” Rather to my surprise, all the men were still planning to ride to Winchester for lunch that day.  They asked after Britten and I said he would be down shortly but he was otherwise engaged in our bedroom.

“Ha, ha! Otherwise engaged!  And with whom, might we ask!” said Hoxton.

“I am not sure, precisely!” I said.

“Ah, Sutton!  Mr Britten is in his allocated room, and you should remind him of our plan to ride to Winchester for lunch.  If he ain’t down in fifteen minutes go and tell him we will be in the stables!”

“Of course, my lord!” said Sutton.

“Er Sutton, he is not alone!” I said.

“That is what I would expect this weekend, sir.  I have seen everything, so I will not be shocked!” She smiled at me before departing.

“Sutton has really taken a shine to you Molloy, said Hoxton.  “She never smiles at anyone!”  I blushed.

“Assume you are coming too, eh, Molloy!” said Sir Gerald.

“Oh! Actually I am not feeling too well this morning.  A quiet day will see me in a better state for this evening.  Perhaps I will do some drawing!” I said.

“Oh right ho!” said Hoxton. “Nothing to do with being the only cock left in a henhouse of more than two dozen delicious hens!”

“It had not occurred to me!” I said.  “But now that you mention it!” I added, trying to sound like one of the chaps.

“Top hole!” said Hoxton, slapping me on the back.  “Look forward to the drawings, eh?  Now where’s the general?  If he don’t come he will be condemned to a cold lunch, given cook’s other tasks today.  We will need a good pie to set us up for this evening!”





I stepped out into the garden.  It was a lovely April day.  Elizabeth was correct, it had been much warmer than usual lately. I walked around the house and looked down the hill at the ornamental lake below.  I could see the two gardeners, Ross and Debney at the bottom of the hill.  One of them looked up and waved.  I waved back.  They had their hair up under their flat caps so I was not quite sure which one it was.  Ross, perhaps. I crossed a formal Italian garden and came to a large white building standing on its own in the sunlight.  There was a motor lorry outside.  Curious, I went through the door and realised that I was in the orangery, although there were no signs of any orange trees, just some potted palms.  At the end of the large room I saw perhaps a dozen naked and half naked girls all trying on various flimsy costumes,  There, also, were Smaile and Smithers with no less than three cameras on tripods arranged across the room.

“Mr Edmund!  Mr Edmund!” cried one of the girls.  It was Anna from Sweden.  All the girls were from the Babylon Exploration Society.  “Have you come to watch us have our photographs taken?  How nice!” she said, in her sing song accent. I wandered down the length of the orangery, which had large arched windows on both sides, to see them.

“Morning, Ed!” said Smaile.  “A busy morning for me I think!” He indicated the girls.

“Busy but very enjoyable, I would imagine!” I said.

“They are all just objects to me, Ed. Still, the light is wonderful this morning.  Come along ladies!  Sort yourselves out!  First girl please!” he said.  A girl I did not know, who was just wearing a pair of black stockings, sat on a marble bench at the end of the orangery.  She put her hands on her knees, squeezing her bosoms out provocatively. “Lovely!  Perfect!  Keep still!” Smaile put his head underneath the camera’s black hood and pressed the shutter.  Smithers removed the plate from the camera and inserted a new one.

“I miss me mum!” he said to me.

“Morning Smithers!” I said, as the girl repositioned herself on the bench.  She spread her thighs wide and presented her pink parts, nestled in her soft brown floss. One of the other girls threw her a banana and she grinned, instantly sliding it between her nether lips.  She looked straight at me and started to gently thrust it in and out.

“Oh  Mr Edmund, Maud is thinking of you!” said Anna.  “We have told her all about you!”

“She needs a bigger banana!” added Bettina.  The other girls laughed and I blushed.

“Keep still girl!” said Smaile.  “You must be still!” She made a face but stopped moving her arm. “Perhaps an inch or two further in!”  She complied.  Smaile asked for the next girl and a striking negress took her place.  She removed her chemise to reveal a body of almost unbelievable ripeness.  Maud came over to me and clutched my groin, laughing.

“Would you like to do her bum?” she asked in a European accent I could not place, as she nodded st the negress.  “Such a big one!” Smaile obviously thought the same as he had the black girl kneel across the bench presenting her sumptuous rear to his lens.

What lovely girls you all are!” I said.  “I am very happy just to watch!” 

“I’ll bet you are, you naughty boy!” said another of the girls, who appeared, fully dressed in her white clothes, from behind one of the potted palms. “You must think it’s Christmas, eh, not Easter?”

“Bobbie!” I gasped.  I thought I had recognised one of the girl’s when they arrived but I couldn’t place her from the Babylon Exploration Society.  Now I realised it was the girl Daisy and Edith had employed to tease me in the Euston Hotel. Bobbie, the maid come toffer. “What are you doing here?” I stammered.

“I'm on trial!” she said.  She approached me and gave me an embrace.  She smelled of an expensive rose perfume.

“But you aren’t a Babylon girl!  You are English!” I said, stepping back from her.  I saw Anna and Bettina watch us in interest, before Smaile posed them together on the bench, kissing.

“In fact, I am half German.  Madame Nathalie has asked me to open the Berlin branch of the Society for her.  It is a wonderful opportunity for me.  I just need to impress, this weekend.  Your...appreciation, would be very welcome, Mr Molloy!”  Her voice was rather more refined than in her role as a maid.

“Well, from my point of view you treated me rather badly!” I said. She was such a petite thing.  Her dark eyes flashing at me, beguilingly.

“So, in that case I need to make it up to you, then, don’t I!” she laughed.  “Now that I have seen to the girls getting ready for their portraits I need to get to the Turkish Salon, wherever that is, and join Madame Nathalie and the proper ladies.  I am taking part in an entertainment tonight and I need to find out my role!”

“I could take you to the Turkish Salon now!” I said.

“Don’t you want to watch the girls some more?” she asked. Anna was licking between Bettina’s thighs as Smaile urged thm to keep still.

“I have seen this particular performance!” I said.  I had left the house to get away from the suffocating carnal atmosphere, after all.

“Come along, then Mr Molloy!” she took my arm.  “Don’t wear them out Mr Smaile!  They need to be fresh as new-cut flowers for tonight!” Smaile nodded as Smithers changed plates.

We stepped outside the orangery into the sunlit garden only to meet Ross and Debney, the gardeners.  They must have made rapid progress up the hill, I thought.  In fact, they appeared to be breathing rather heavily as if they had been running.

“What is going on in the orangery?  We saw ladies enter!” asked Ross.

“Two naked girls are pleasuring each other while ten more partly naked ones watch them!” I said, hoping to disgust them.

“We must attend to the palms to ensure they don’t get damaged!” said Debney, hurrying towards the Orangery door.

“They are ladies who appreciate ladies,” I said to Bobbie.

“Myself also!  Attractive women!” she observed.

“They are indeed!” I agreed, as we headed to the rear entrance of Hoxton Hall.

“I’m sorry about what happened in London.  I felt guilty afterwards!” said Bobbie, pausing outside the door.

“You were just doing your job!” I said.

“Are you now reconciled with the ladies concerned.  Or did it all end unpleasantly?” she asked. "They are both here, I noticed."

“Indeed.  in the Turkish Salon. We are reconciled, I think.”

“You do not seem very certain,” said Bobbie.

“I am uncertain about many aspects of this weekend!” I offered.

“Madame Nathalie has told me about it but is it really as debauched as she indicates?”

“Well, last night, in a small private gathering, I saw women drawing lots to be taken by a man they had hardly met, a young girl bound and ravished by three other girls, a woman watching as her husband buggered another woman and any amount of copulating, gamahuching, frigging, pissing and drug abuse!”

“Excellent!” laughed Bobie.  “Just what I hoped for!”

Bobbie disappeared inside the Turkish Salon where Sutton kept me from approaching the door.  I did smell the particular smell of Hoxton’s nargile tobacco before the door was firmly closed. I was soon wandering the corridors of what now felt like an empty house. I found my way to the back of the house and the Rear Drawing Room, in which I had had my tryst with Sutton.  I entered the bright, sunlit room which I had heretofor only seen at night. It overlooked the back garden. I thought about returning to the orangery. 

“Is there anything you need, sir,” asked Ruby the redheaded maid, entering the room.

“No.  I don’t think so.  I’ll wait until some of the others appear,” I answered.

“Well, you might have a long wait, sir. Sutton told me the ladies will be in their harem until lunchtime, so they will”  I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.  It was just past ten. “And lunch is not until one thirty today.  Sir Gerald, Sir Jonty, Mr Britten,the general and his Lordhsip will be having lunch at the George in Winchester so they won’t be back until about four, sir, if things go as they usually do.”

“Perhaps I will do some writing!” I said. I wanted to write an account of the extraordinary proceedings of the previous night before they were expunged from my memory.  I also wanted to note down the events of this morning.

“Of course sir, although I have another suggestion.  A cheeky suggestion, sir, if you please!”

“I am always interested in a cheeky suggestion!” I said, smiling at her.  She was a tiny thing, like a little sparrow and just as chirpy.

“That was my impression, sir.  Well given the bloody awful plumbing here, sir, beg your pardon for language, running a bath is something of a performance upstairs, so it is. The other girls and I have a nice hot bath down in the scullery at the moment.  Lovely and hot it is. Has his Lordship told you about maid’s bath day?”

“Yes he mentioned it.  It sounds quite entertaining!”  I said, getting my hopes up.

“Well me and the other girls was wondering if you might like to join us for a hot bath.  It’s not some hip bath sir.  It is a big proper enamel bath and all. It’s French and everything.  We has running water in the scullery you see and a water heater!”

“Well, as long as all the other girls are happy it would be very nice!” I said, after contemplating the suggestion for approximately one quarter of a second.

“Lovely, sir.  Especially as I drew the long straw!” she said leading me across to the other wing of the house once more.

“The long straw for what!” I asked.

“To wash your cock, sir!” grinned Ruby.

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