Review Tuesday: Party Games by Charlotte Gatto (#noncon #erotica #bdsm)

Party Games by Charlotte Gatto

Renaissance Ebooks Sizzler Editions, 2011

Eroticism is in the eye of the beholder. Reading Charlotte Gatto’s novella Party Games reminded me once again of this truth. The stimuli and scenarios one individual finds arousing might have no effect on someone else. Indeed, acts or situations that turn one person on may squick another.

I celebrate the diversity of erotic impulse. If everyone had the same sexual tastes, both life and literature would be boring indeed. As for me, there are a lot of things that push my buttons, including some topics or behaviors that are generally considered extreme or taboo.

Party Games goes somewhat further out on the edge than I’d normally venture. It falls into the category of non-consensual erotica, stories in which a character is forced to engage in or submit to sexual acts explicitly against his or her will. In Ms. Gatto’s book, the heroine Stephanie is lured into attending a party by Chris, a charming and handsome man who has befriended her at a coffee shop. They’ve spent several weeks getting to know one another, so it’s not unreasonable for him to invite her out on what she thinks is a date.

She arrives at the party excited by Chris’s presence, hoping this new experience together will move their relationship to the next level. Flattered by his attention, and that of the host Simon, she agrees to participate in unexplained “games”. She soon discovers what this means: she must obey the orders of anyone at the party, or be severely punished. The party guests make increasingly lewd demands upon her. Though she enjoys herself initially, she’s soon made to suffer very real pain, over which she has no control.

Stephanie’s situation becomes increasingly desperate as Chris, Simon and their female co-conspirator induce paralysis via a surreptitiously administered drug, then abuse her in a variety of degrading and uncomfortable ways. Her problems escalate further when she’s turned into human prey, running for her life and safety, while the guests stalk her, free to rape her if she falls into their clutches.

And is all this arousing? Well, it depends on your tastes. I suspect the author finds it so. I’ve certainly had non-consensual fantasies, so parts of the book turned me on. The notion of being drugged without my knowledge or consent, though, is something I find terrifying and disturbing. Likewise, I can’t stand the notion that someone I trust would deliberately lie to me, the way Chris does. These two aspects of the book killed a lot of the excitement for me.

I also found the heroine’s blithe lack of suspicion a bit annoying. She’s not exactly TSTL (Too Stupid To Live), but she seems far too ready to believe anything that Chris tells her, especially after she has seen some of the results of her credulity. On the other hand, her pain, terror and exhaustion are highly convincing.

It was surprising (to me, at least) that the novella had a happy ending. Given the darkness in some parts of the book, this struck me as incongruous, though it will probably be a relief to many readers. I guess even someone who loves non-con scenarios can only endure so much without a bit of voluntary pleasure.

All in all, my reactions to Party Games were mixed. I applaud Ms. Gatto’s courage, however, in bravely exploring fantasies which many women have, but relatively few will admit.

Review Tuesday: Spring of the Stag God (#gay #erotica #fantasy)

Spring of the Stag God by J.C. Herneson

Bear Bones Books/Lethe Press, 2010

J.C. Herneson’s gay erotic fantasy Spring of the Stag God sat on my bookshelf for years before I opened it. The publisher sent it to me, unsolicited, back in 2011, along with Simon Shepard’s Sodomy!, which I’d agreed to review. The raw but evocative cover both intrigued me and made me blush. A snarling, muscular, tattooed man, his tangled red hair crowned with massive antlers, masturbates an enormous green cock in each hand, while his own rears up proudly, drooling semen. The image is both gorgeously drawn and incredibly obscene. More of these drawings, by artist Kupopo, decorate the title page and introduce each section—full of eloquent curves, stuffed holes and dripping organs.

One review of this book on Amazon says “I’ve never read anything like it.” I have to agree with this sentiment. Spring of the Stag God has the logic of filthy dreams tempered by a hint of pagan spirituality that glorifies the rituals of the flesh.

The book, which is divided into three sections, unfolds in a mythical realm inhabited by both men and orcs, a brutish but massively powerful race of warriors. In the first part, “A Stag God is Born”, the fifteen year old human youth Ashlan suffers from strange, wild dreams brimming with eroticism. When his uncle takes him anally, the experience triggers the change latent in Ashlan from the start. He begins his transformation into the Seven-Tined Stag God sacred to the Split-Hoof tribe of orcs.

The Stag God is one with the forest, a creature of the elements. He epitomizes fertility. And he takes, sometimes brutally, the male bodies he encounters, both human and orc. To be penetrated by the Stag God’s massive cock is devastating and painful, but it can also be transcendent. Male-male fucking is a sacrament in Herneson’s fantasy world.

In the second section, “The Stag and the Bear”, Ashlan seeks out the fearsome Bear God as his mentor and master. He battles his way to the stormy mountain peak where the Bear resides. The Bear claims the young god's ass and wins his devotion and service. The interlude with the Bear pushes the Stag God further along his path to divinity.

The third section, “The Stag God’s Apostle”, was my favorite. This section most clearly articulates the contrast between the Stag God’s magical world of untrammeled animal lust and the self-denying, repressive spirituality of men, as represented by the Patriarch of the Lord of Light. Yet even the so-called godly succumb to the lure of raging cocks and hungry assholes.

You’ll find a lot of fucking in this book, much of it rough to the point of pain. Some of it unquestionably deserves the label rape. However, you will find tenderness, too, and a sense of redemption that comes from the merging of bodies and the indulgence of desire. The young orc Hadra who is ravaged by Ashlan in Part One becomes his devoted apostle in Part Three, ready to lay down his life for the God who made him aware of who and what he is.

I’m not a gay man, but personally, I found some scenes in this book deeply erotic. This is may be because I also believe that flesh and spirit cannot be separated.

However, I suspect many readers might be offended by this book. It’s not for the squeamish, and anything but politically correct. My reluctance to take it down from the shelves had some justification.

The only thing that really bothered me about Spring of the Stag God, though, was some tendency toward repetition. The plot is highly original, but the scenes of sexual excess all tend to be described in the same way, using the same terminology. After a while, I’d really read enough about “nethers”!

This is a quibble, though. If you enjoy non-consensual homoerotic fantasy, Spring of the Stag God will satisfy that craving.

Review: Seven Kisses by Giselle Renarde

Seven Kisses by Giselle Renarde

Introverted, order-loving Gabrielle goes for a walk one afternoon, planning to explore a wooded parkland in her home town. Instead of the forest path shown on her map, she encounters a gated driveway that leads to a magnificent Victorian mansion. An unprepossessing sign identifies the property as Loindici Rehabilitation Centre.

As far as the Internet is concerned, the place doesn’t exist, but as Gabby stands marveling at its forbidding glory, her life shifts. A limousine enters the vast grounds. A teen-aged girl in provocative attire emerges. Rushing to Gabrielle, she blurts out “You’re Suzanne!”, then flees. And before Gabrielle realizes what’s going on, several burly figures in scrubs and surgical masks arrive to take “Suzanne” to the rehabilitation centre. At first Gabby protests, but some imp of the perverse – a mixture of curiosity and fatalism – motivates her to assume the patient Suzanne’s identity and agree to undergo Madame deVilleneuve’s “therapies”.

Then she descends into hell. Suzanne is apparently a nymphomaniac and “chronic masturbator”. The Madame’s therapy involves drugs, restraints, beatings, humiliation, sensory deprivation and violent sexual penetration by a Beast – an ominously silent creature whom Madame de Villeneuve explains is the externalization of Suzanne’s own wild and untamed sexual cravings.

This isn’t a question of playing games or acting roles. The pain Gabrielle endures is real and lasting. After several days of therapy her flesh is bruised and torn. She is unable to walk. Yet despite the terrible indignities inflicted upon her, Gabrielle somehow craves these experiences – not with her mind, which turns away appalled and disgusted, but with her traitorous body.

The delicious and chilling aspect of this situation is that the whole scenario is consensual – at least in a formal sense. Gabrielle has freely chosen to enter the Madame’s purgatory. Her reasons seem trivial, but Ms. Renarde makes it clear that in some sense, the Madame is right. Though Gabrielle’s behavior has never been anything other than exemplary, she shares the real Suzanne’s unlimited sexual needs. She has managed to hide this truth from herself all her life – until she entered Loindici Manor.

Madame de Villeneuve furrowed her brow. “My dear, we do not commit patients against their will. You are a legal adult and, as such, your parents’ signatures are not sufficient to gain entry to my program.” She pulled a document from her drawer. How odd—the papers were put together not with a staple but with a brass tack. “It is up to you to commit yourself to my program, Suzanne.”

“Oh.” Could Gabrielle really go through with this? Could she really pretend she was someone else, some rich nymphomaniac? She hadn’t acted a part since the Grade 8 Christmas play, and she wasn’t very good in that.

Handing Gabrielle the wooden calligraphy pen, Madame said, “I must warn you: my therapy is intensive but it yields results. When we begin, you will more than likely wish to return home to a world of comforts. But this, I will not allow. Once you sign my document, you are committed to my care. You do as I instruct. You will not leave until I tell you to go. If this is understood, then sign your name at the bottom of the page.”

The contract, or whatever it was, hadn’t been typed on a computer. The whole thing had been written in Madame’s dense calligraphy hand. Gabrielle couldn’t read a word of it, yet all she could think to ask was, “My parents are paying for this, right?”

Madame nodded solemnly, seeming offended by the mention of money. “Your stay has been paid in advance.”

This place was basically a five-star resort masquerading as a rehab clinic. What was the sense in letting the booking go to waste while the real Suzanne camped out in Loindici Woods, or boarded a plane out of the country, or whatever she was doing right now?

“Once you sign that page, Suzanne, you are mine to treat. You give up your right to say no. Are you prepared to do that, young lady?”

As the therapy proceeds, Gabrielle’s reality begins to dissolve into dark fantasy. Liveried monkeys act as the Madame’s servants. Walls waver and melt into mist. The Beast who so expertly batters her becomes her lover. Madame reveals her own prurient interests in the hapless patient, in an almost unbearably kinky interlude in the mansion’s stables. The Beast helps her to escape. Yet the first thing Gabrielle does when she’s out of the Madame’s clutches is to race back in order to save her beloved Beast from de Villeneuve’s inveterate cruelty.

Seven Kisses offers a totally original mix of heart-catching romance, unbridled kink and wondrous magic. Sometimes the meld is a bit awkward, but overall it works. Occasionally the book reaches the heights of great fantasy. I particularly loved the scene in which Gabrielle leads the wounded Beast through the crumbling wreckage of the manor, as the Madame’s sorcery unravels.

A warning, though: this is not a book for the squeamish or faint of heart. Despite Gabrielle’s having committed herself by signing the Madame’s illegible contract, much of what occurs in this book would be considered non-consensual. Just because Gabrielle enjoys some aspects does not erase the fact that she’s being raped.

If you’re interested in the interaction between desire and will, however – if, like me, you think you were Victorian in a previous life – if you believe in magic - if you’ve ever fantasized about making love to your own Beast – I highly recommend Seven Kisses.