The
House of Fox by S.J. Smith
Sinful
Press, 2016
On
a typical Saturday night, four friends go out on the town, drinking
and dancing, flirting and fighting. Well, they’re not exactly
friends. Donna and Dylan have known each other forever, and Donna
harbors a fierce, hopeless attraction for her egotistical childhood
companion, but he’s too busy seducing Jane, a shy redhead who works
with Donna, to pay any attention. Donna is stuck with her boring,
sycophantic boyfriend Frank. Frank and Dylan loathe one another.
Tensions rise, tempers flare, and the group disintegrates, each
member going off alone, only to encounter a curvaceous, provocatively
dressed blond who promises a much better time.
The
next thing they know, Donna, Dylan, Jane and Frank find themselves in
a pornographic purgatory called the House of Fox. Its endless
corridors are lined with randomly numbered rooms which provide entry
to scenes of perversion and sexual excess worthy of Hieronymous
Bosch. Presiding over this dreamlike —
and sometimes nightmarish
—
domain is the voluptuous, domineering Kitty, who both fulfills
forbidden fantasies and punishes any attempts at rebellion. She
reveals that they all died that fateful Saturday night, that they’re
trapped for eternity in the House where their primary role is to
entertain the Great Voyeur, and that failure to satisfy will result
in their being cast into the fires of Hell.
Each
member of the quartet reacts differently. Dylan becomes determined to
escape, but gets distracted when the House instantiates his rock star
fantasies. Frank slips into infantilism and madness. Donna becomes
increasingly cynical and fatalistic, despite her attraction to the
mysterious Giovanni. Previously virginal Jane, who has always
believed herself to be unattractive and incompetent, blooms in the
atmosphere of unbridled carnality. She attracts Miss Kitty’s
attention and becomes the Domme’s protegée, apprentice and sexual
partner.
The
remainder of the 260 odd pages chronicles the various plots and
counter plots as each character deals with the diabolical House of
Fox in his or her own way. Sometimes the logic doesn’t make much
sense (or at least, it didn’t to me), but that doesn’t matter all
that much. In the book, as in the House of Fox, the focus is mostly
on the wild behavior of the inhabitants. S.J. Fox describes the
goings on with obvious glee — double, triple, quadruple
penetrations; fellatio and cunnilingus; spankings and other erotic
discipline; milk enemas, pussy ping pong and beaver baseball. When it
comes to sex, this novel is truly over the top. It’s also hilarious
at times. The lyrics of the songs Dylan sings to his adoring fans are
particularly funny.
I
found myself reminded of the erotic works by another Smith: the
legendary Thorne Smith, who wrote in the 1920s. I still remember
reading Night
Life of the Gods
and Turnabout
in my teens. (I was precocious!) The
House of Fox
is more explicit, but is similar in its bawdy irreverence and its
humor.
In
general, S.J. Smith does a wonderful job bringing his scenes to life.
He captures the dream-like fluidity of HOF, the way an entire world
can be hidden behind a door, or a room can transform in an instant
from a luxurious hotel suite to a bare concrete cell. The book is
very visual. I can imagine it would make an excellent X-rated comic
or animation.
Furthermore,
the novel includes the best description of Hell I’ve ever
encountered. The author had me shuddering at the vivid descriptions
of the Underworld’s horrors. In these chapters, the humor became
very black indeed.
Despite
all the sexual activity in this book, I would not call it erotic.
It’s all too extreme, too unrealistic. The novel is, however,
sublimely naughty, and might well tempt you to emulate some of
shenanigans going on in the HOF. It’s the sort of book you’d read
under the covers, when your parents think you’re asleep, and then
whisper about to your friends.
