The Once and Future Queen

"Are you having a good time?" the young actress whose name escaped Jane at the moment asked.

"Oh I'm having a really wonderful time," Jane replied with a broad smile.

"I guess something like this is really old hat to you," the actress went on as she gestured to the large crowd that filled the even larger garden where the party was being held. "You must've attended hundreds of parties like this before. This is my first." she gushed.

Jane just continued to smile. Truth be told, this was the first party like this she had ever attended as well. Even in her heyday in Hollywood, she had never been invited to an A-List party. Especially not one in a setting like that around her.

The large twenty-six-room mansion on the seacoast had been built by one of the great actors of the nineteen twenties, one of those people who had practically created the movie industry. Its current owner and their host for the weekend, was one of the new boy wonders of Hollywood. With six blockbusters and two Academy Awards behind him, the studio just couldn't say no to him when he'd come to them with the idea for the project he was now celebrating the completion of.

"Mara, Queen of the Jungle" was a multi-million dollar remake of a early nineteen eighties television show that Jason Flynn had been fixated on since his teen years. A sort of female version of the classic Tarzan story, it had been the thirty-six year old's lifelong dream to remake it in his image and he was now in a position to do just that.

Back when the show had been on television, it had definitely been low budget. It lasted only a few seasons, despite achieving almost cult-like status, especially among teen-age boys and was soon consigned to what was expected to be the oblivion of cancellation.

But then, like a few other shows of the era, it went into syndication and became a greater hit than it had ever been when it was first run. Even today, the seventy-two episodes could be found running on one cable station or another.

So, with an abundance of old television shows being made into big budget films, the studio was willing to green light the project and make Jason happy. Even if the film was a bomb, they reasoned, enough ticket buyers would go to see it based on Flynn's reputation for them to at least break even. At worst, if the film tanked, it would take the maverick producer/director down a peg or two and make him easier to deal with.

But the studio bosses greatly underestimated Jason and the lengths he was willing to go to insure his dream picture would indeed be a hit. This was a film he'd been thinking about for half his life and he already had a long list of things to do and people to see to make that happen. At the top of that list had been Jane Parker, who had retired from the motion picture business over a decade before. As soon as he got the commitment from the studio, he sought out the former actress and offered her a role he created especially for her.

To anyone who had loved the show of course, and their numbers had been legion, his action was both predictable and made perfect sense. Jane Parker had been the original Mara. In the new version, the now forty-six year old would play an explorer who discovers the Jungle Girl and brings her back to civilization.

When first approached with the offer, Jane had been a little reluctant at first to take on the role. But she had agreed to see Jason later in the month when he was on the East Coast where she'd relocated. It had been years since she'd set foot in front of a camera and she liked the idea of her fans remembering her as she had been, not as she was now.

Having spent more than half of her life in Hollywood, where looks were everything, Jane was oftentimes much too critical of herself. The reality was, which others could see even if she couldn't, that a dozen or so extra pounds and a few age lines had done little to lessen her beauty. In fact, many people thought she was more attractive as a mature woman, standing out among her peers in a way she never did back when she was just one of a thousand pretty girls in a bikini making the rounds and looking for their big break.

After Queen of the Jungle went off the air, Jane had appeared in a number of roles in the years that followed. True, most had been B or made for television movies with few starring roles, but at least she'd been a working actress for most of her career, something few of her contemporaries could say.

When she made the decision to quit the business before it quit on her, she also made the decision not to capitalize on her one great role. Oh she would answer the occasional fan mail that managed to come her way, but she refused to appear at any of the science fiction and fantasy conventions that sent her invitations. She didn't want to become some old lady trying to remember her glory days.

It was only recently that some friends had finally convinced her to attend one of those gatherings and she was overwhelmed to finally realize that she had been the only one who saw herself that way. She hadn't even been a guest at the convention, but someone had recognized her and word quickly spread. In no time at all, close to a thousand fans had abandoned the stars of current shows on the ballroom dais to gather around her in an empty room and engage in an impromptu question and answer session.

So when Jason came to see her in person, he found her in a much more receptive mood than she might've been only a few weeks before. Still, she only accepted the role when she was sure it was going to be a real part, and not just some quick cameo that might wind up on the cutting room floor.

His proven talent aside, Jane found Jason to be pretty much an adult version of the geeky teenage boys who had drooled over her when the show was on the air. In their chats over a two day period, he'd even let it slip that he'd had his share of fantasies about her character while growing up and had gone so far as to buy one of her original costumes at an auction to put on display in his new house. Jane also got the impression that even though she was a decade his senior, the filmmaker would be overjoyed to live out some of those fantasies even now.

If that was the case, Jane thought, then Jason was going to be greatly disappointed. It was true, she'd slept with the executive producer to get the role of Mara in the first place, and in the later part of her career, a few blow jobs might've helped pave the way to an audition or two, but those days were far behind her. Not knowing the reason for the little smile on the corner of her mouth, Jason droned on about his plans for the new rendition of Mara. No longer really listening, Jane found herself remembering how she'd gotten involved in the original version.

The producers of the original Queen of the Jungle had been looking for a fresh new face for their Jungle Girl and invited the talent agencies to send around some of their unknowns to read for the part. Jane knew going in there that she had little more going for her than a few small guest star roles, a couple of commercials and a resume that held little more than a minor national beauty title and a 38-26-38 figure. The funny thing was that in the end, it all pretty much came down to her being able to fill the costume.

The problem was, Jane remembered, there was another, younger actress, Juliet Newman, also fit the costume. And, despite only being in Hollywood a few years, Juliet had nearly twice Jane's experience. If it had been up to the studio, Juliet would've won the leading role.

But the decision wasn't up to the studio, however, and Jane got a first hand lesson in how things were sometimes still done in the business, at least on this level. Rebecca Simon, who had spent the better part of two decades establishing herself as a power to be reckoned with, had signed on as executive producer as a favor to an old friend. After climbing her way to the top over every obstacle they could put in front of her, the fifty-nine year old felt entitled to the perks that came with it.

That Rebecca was as gay as they came was no secret, or the fact that the quickest way to a role in one of her productions was through her bed. Juliet, who despite having already done her share of auditioning on her back, including securing a top agent by letting him fuck her ass, inexplicably decided that such things were now beneath her. If they really wanted her for the part, and in her mind they'd be foolish not to, then it was going to be on her terms.

"Who does that fat old dyke think she is that I'm going to crawl down between her legs and get her off?" Juliet had been heard to say within earshot of several people who had been more than happy to repeat it for the producer.

Rebecca, who stood five foot one, weighed in at almost two hundred pounds and couldn't be described as attractive by even her closest friends, was understandably upset when she'd heard the comment. While the description might indeed be accurate, it had been a good many years since anyone had dared voice it. Especially not someone as, despite her high opinion of herself, easily replaceable as Juliet.

The chance for the role was quickly offered to Jane, who it turned out, had no problem with crawling into the older woman's bed. While it had been her first time with a woman, the twenty-two year old didn't view rumpling the sheets with Rebecca any differently than with a man under the same circumstances. Looking back even now, Jane remembered the orgasm the very talented woman had given her as being quite memorable indeed.

The experience hadn't been repeated, at least not with Rebecca, who it seemed had a distinct preference for Sapphic virgins, and Jane was on her way. It was such a small price to pay for the rewards that followed, she always thought. As for Juliet, it was only a few years ago that Jane learned from a friend that despite a later willingness to go that extra yard for a role, her career had pretty much never gone anywhere. She did however gain some fame as the mother of a rising young star who had his own hit TV show.

"Oh my goodness, isn't that Cynthia Thomas?" the young actress who Jane finally remembered was named Debbie Ford gushed as she spotted the legend on the other side of the buffet table. Her excited voice snapping Jane back to the present.

Jane looked in that direction and nodded that indeed it was. Now in her late sixties, the star of stage and screen was attended by a young man four decades her junior. May/December romances were hardly unusual in Hollywood with the women now catching up to the men. But unlike, say in the case of Kate Douglas who Jane had seen at the party earlier, Cynthia's companion was hardly the boy-toy of the week. As Jane understood it, the young man with Cynthia had been her inseparable companion for almost ten years.

Yes things certainly had changed in Hollywood since she'd left, Jane reminded herself. Two actresses, stars of a hit show about a group of friends in New York that had just gone off the air after a ten year run, had even shown up with each other as an escort, making little effort to discourage the suggestion that they were more than just friends.

There had been a few other stars that Jane recognized from her actress days, but few that remembered her. In most cases, that was understandable as she'd barely knew them then. But in one case at least, the lapse seemed intentional.

Barbara Seward was now an Academy Award winner and had her choice of film roles to pick from. Still, Jane found it hard to believe that she had so easily forgotten co-starring with her in The Lost Legion, one of those B movies that had been the staple of both their careers a decade and a half ago. Especially since the two of them shared a trailer and Jane knew first hand how Babs had worked her way through a number of the young students who had been hired as extras on the film.

Far away from the comforts of civilization, there hadn't been much else to do on those long desert nights but play cards, get drunk, or fuck. Jane had hardly been an angel out on location either, but at least she hadn't been running up a scorecard.

Unwilling to take her snub graciously, Jane again engaged Barbara in conversation, this time while she was surrounded by adoring fans. Using the excuse of introducing her to Debbie, Jane again reminded her of their prior collaboration, this time not accepting the brush off "you must be mistaken" comment that Barbara had given before.

A look of abject horror appeared on Barbara's face as Jane alluded to those late night entertainments and for a moment the Academy Award winner feared the details were about to follow. Then Jane laughed, said that those were fun times and then just took hold of Debbie and walked away. She'd made her point and was satisfied with that.

As she picked up another drink from a passing waiter, Jane wondered if Barbara's admirers would've found it shocking that the star used to enjoy, and perhaps still did, taking on teenage boys, sometimes two or three at a time.

After thinking about it a minute, Jane decided probably not. This was Hollywood after all, and as long as the money kept rolling in, little was shocking.

Ten minutes later, Jane noticed the crowd had begun to gravitate to the far end of the clearing where Jason was giving a familiar speech about the film and how it was a dream come true. Having heard it all before, and not being among the many who needed to stay on the boy wonder's good side in the hope of future roles, Jane decided to take the opportunity to explore the old mansion. She'd always been interested in Hollywood history and this old building held enough of it to totally fascinate her.

It wasn't like she was trespassing she told herself. After all, she and a few others on the film had been invited to spend the weekend. Jason himself had told her to look around when she had a chance and now seemed as good a time as any. Leaving Debbie to go and listen to the speech, Jane walked into the house through two large double patio doors.

-=-=-=-

Looking around the eighty-year-old mansion, Jane couldn't help but be impressed. People certainly had a lot more style back when it had been built, at least those who worked in Hollywood. Rather than just demand the biggest and best, the original owner had the house built to reflect his personality and, in an action that increased his standing in her eyes, Jason had sought to accent those original designs with his additions rather than obscure them. Too often newly rich stars had tried to show how much style they had by buying classic houses, then gutted them to the walls, to be rebuilt in their own plebeian image.

Walking from room to room, Jane found the little extras she expected a man like Jason to have. The audio-visual extravaganza with the latest in stereos and high definition television, complete with satellite hook-ups. The game room with a video arcade that looked more like mission control than anything you'd find in the best amusement parks. There was a full sized Olympic pool in the basement, put in by the original owner, which had also been restored to pristine condition.

Off to the side of the pool was what Jane knew was a party room of another type, complete with large plush sofas, a bar and adjustable lighting. Even today, the stories of those old time parties, one might even call them orgies, were legendary. Who exactly had taken part in them were secrets that for the most part had been carried to the grave. The whispered lists of suspects had included some of the biggest stars of the screen in the thirties right up to the nineteen fifties. Jane idly wondered if Jason used the room for the same thing or had merely restored it to its former glory as a homage to what once was.

Moving back to the higher floors, Jane found most of the rooms to be more conventional, most not much different than her own modest home except for their sheer number. She didn't feel envious or anything like that, she had long ago made peace with what her life had been and the third tier level of stardom she'd achieved.

She'd had her fun, sowed her wild oats as they say. A few affairs and one-night stands, plus a marriage that turned out to be a major mistake and had quickly ended in divorce. It hadn't taken long for her to find that Edgar Rice, who at first seemed every girl's dream, was more in love with the cards and horses than any woman. She really never fell in love until she was away from Hollywood and despite losing her second husband in a car accident two years ago, she wouldn't have traded their time together for an Oscar. Johnny had left her with a son, Clayton, who meant everything in the world to her.

Reaching the top floor, Jane discovered a large room that took up half the landing. Filled with oversized windows, she surmised that at one time it had been intended to be a solarium. Now it served as what Jason probably thought of as his own private museum. Scattered across the floor were dozens of glass cases filled with movie memorabilia. The movies and television shows the artifacts represented ranged from the well known to the obscure, many of them going back to the early days of film and TV.

"Oh my God!" Jane blurted out loud as she spotted a case at the far end of the room in a central place of honor. "He really did buy one of those damn costumes."

Moving over to the display to get a better look, Jane was captivated by an outfit she hadn't seen in twenty years. Made of a soft brown material designed to simulate lion fur, the costume, if you could really call it that, had less material than most of the bikinis of its time. The network censors had rejected the original and each succeeding version had literally grown inch by inch until they finally, if reluctantly gave their approval. As it was, there had been more than a few what they now called wardrobe malfunctions on the set, the films of which, Jane was thankful, were long ago destroyed. Today, pictures like that would most likely find their way onto the Internet within hours.

The costume was worn by a mannequin of which Jane had no doubt, probably had the same dimensions as she had back then. The features of the facsimile bore a certain resemblance to her, right down to the long red hair she had in her twenties. It was almost like looking through a reflection into the past, she thought as she walked around the case and compared the body she once had to the one she looked at in the mirror this morning.

"Still not too bad," she mused as she looked down her back at an ass that was only slightly bigger than the mannequin's. Despite their size, her boobs had held up pretty well too she told herself, making those daily workout sessions worth the while.

"I wonder if it would still fit," she contemplated as the temptation to find out just that filled her.

Thankfully that idea faded as she remembered how easily those outfits seemed to rip. So much so that they had to have four always on hand. All in all, seven were made during the series with three of them ruined beyond repair. It wouldn't do to damage what had undoubtedly cost Jason a large amount of money to whatever collector had previously owned it.

"I wonder which one this is?" Jane asked herself as she took a closer and longer look at it. The close examination answered her own question.

"I don't believe it," she said as she suddenly realized what set this version of the costume apart from any of the others. "It has to be," she went on, "I can see where I tore it and Julio had to sew it back together."

She wondered if Jason knew the history of this particular costume, but then again how could he? Only she, Julio, who was the wardrobe seamstress, and one other person knew how it had gotten torn. It was unlikely that either of them had told anyone else.