THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Seann

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

PROLOGUE

"I'd like to buy some painkillers, Miss," the young man said, an
earnest, crooked smile on his face. "Althezol, please."

"You'll need a prescription for that," the pharmacist said,
looking the man head to toe. The man was pretty good-looking in a
boyish way, but whatever boyish charm he might have was
obliterated by the desperation in his too-bright eyes. The
pharmacist wasn't aware of Althezol being addictive, but she
supposed if junkies were creative enough, there was always a
possibility. She hesitated when the man's eyes pleaded with her.

The man slowly placed his hands on the counter. "Please, I need
these pills. The normal over-the-counter stuff doesn't work
anymore."

"I'm sorry," the woman said, softening despite herself at the
helpless look on the man's face. "I can't give you any of those
pills without a prescription."

For a fearful second she thought the man would hit her, but the
murderous rage on the man's face faded after a second, she
wondered if she had imagined it. The man only nodded in
resignation, his face still the placid facade, and offered his
quiet thanks.



"You can't keep living this way," Brian Littrell said, watching
Seann as the latter threw six painkillers into his mouth and drank
them down with a glass of water. I can't keep forging
prescriptions for you."

Seann gave a soft oath then flung the plastic bottle across his
room with all his might. "They don't work. They are fucking
useless!"

"Look, Seann, painkillers never work. Look, there are meditation
classes you can take to learn to control yourself. Yoga's good."

"You think so? I've never been to a yoga or meditation class."
Seann threw himself down on his seat and looked at the glass on
the table. "You think these classes work?"

Brian deftly removed the glass before Seann's eyes even took on
the mad gleam Brian recognized so well.

Seann looked at the other man. "I'm out of control, right?"

"You're still in control," Brian said, then hesitated. "Barely."

"If there's a way to stop, I will." Seann gestured at the pile of
self-help books and videos on self-control and discipline on his
shelves. "For my sake, I hope yoga is as good as you say it is."

Brian hesitated, never attended any yoga classes in his life.
"Trust me, it'll do you good," he said smoothly.



ONE

Only the desperate and the wicked ventured to the underbelly of
crime city in New York known as Hell's Pit. The man known
incongruously as just Tim was what one could call ironically a
police officer for one of the many crimelords that ruled the many
subsections of Hell's Pit. His past was actually pretty mundane -
he was the son of a fishmonger from Detroit, but he wouldn't boast
of it. Hence his origins were always blown out of proportion and
totally, outrageously wrong.

He wondered if the fragile-looking boyish man sitting at the
chair, hands and feet tied, heard the tale where he murdered his
drug dealer father, raped his mother and sister, and took over the
family business, or the one where he was the illegitimate son of
the mysterious tyrant of this section of Hell's Pit groomed for
future succession. Probably neither, since the man was observing
him with a rather silly grin on his handsome face.

Tim went down on one knee and studied the man face-to-face. It was
only sheer practice and force of will that enabled him to speak
evenly, "Who are you?" Because inside, he was hard-pressed not to
push the man to the ground, tear off the man's silly pleated black
slacks, and shoved his own engorged cock up the man's ass.

For five days he had watched the man court death in Hell's Pit.
For a man to whom death was a daily job nuisance, a routine chore
that had to be dispatched, this stranger's flirting with death was
like fireworks thrown into his increasingly ennui-ridden emotions.
He had stared from the upper tiers, watching in reluctant
fascination as this stranger laughed with a knife plunged right
through his right hand, pinning that hand to the table. And the
man taunted several thugs even the most desperate denizens of
Hell's Pit stayed away from, almost sparking a brutal and
undoubtedly fatal gang-rape were Tim not nearby to control the
situation. And only yesterday the man accused Charles Kennoit, a
trigger-happy bastard, of cheating at cards.

Tim watched, and his heart burned at the sight of such impudence
and foolishness. This man became his obsession as he found himself
intrigued at the reasons behind the man's suicidal tendencies. At
first he thought the man had a death wish, but after watching the
tape caught on security cameras of the man laughing with a knife
through his hand, Tim knew.

This man enjoyed his brush with death. Tim could see the
exhilaration in the man's eyes, the fuck-you defiance in his
reckless impulsiveness that increasingly made even the worst low-
lives stay away warily from him, and in the laugh that was clear
in its good cheer, without bitterness. The demon in Tim was drawn
to this man, driving Tim hungry with a need to possess this man,
this strange paradox of frail, hapless physical appearance to the
burning, insane devil inside.

Now, even the scent of the man's sweat and cologne was driving Tim
wild. His nostrils flared like a bull in heat as he bit on his
knuckle for control. Ignoring the thin trickle of blood from his
bite, he repeated his question, "Who are you?"

The man's deep, clear, insane blue eyes never stop glittering in
amusement as he said simply, "Seann William Scott. But you can
call me Seann."

"Seann." Tim tasted the name on his tongue. "Seann, Seann, Seann,"
he said, standing up and sitting on his desk. "You have caused me
a lot of trouble in the past few days."

"Oops. Sorry." Seann tested the bindings that held his hands
behind the chair. "Why am I tied up?"

"It's just common protocol," Tim answered, studying Seann's
boyish, almost innocent facade of mischief. He looked like nothing
more than a foolish boy breaking into a haunted house just to
spite his parents. But no boy laughed with a knife severing his
arteries and tendons. Tim felt his blood simmer slowly at the
memory, at the man's daredevil laugh. He actually found such
madness. arousing and exhilarating, and he wanted with a ravenous
hunger in his loins to conquer and break the fragile Seann.

"It's okay then. So, what is this meeting about? It's not every
day one gets invited into the private, air-conditioned rooms of
the rulers of Hell's Pit."

"You're not worried?" Tim asked with a lift of his eyebrow.

"No. Should I be?" There was a distinct challenge in the tilt of
Seann's head and in the disarmingly cheerful voice.

"You should. I can barely control myself from fucking you right
there on your chair."

Seann only glanced at the tremendous bulge of Tim's erection at
Tim's crotch and looked up at Tim archly. "You think you can fuck
me without untying me?"

Tim let loose a low growl in his chest as he got off the table. He
advanced towards Seann, who looked back at him unflinchingly and
with only casual interest as Tim placed his Swiss knife at where
Seann's right indentation of his pubic arch would be. As Tim
pressed the blade, cutting through silk, down, he lowered his
opened mouth to Seann's lips, which parted in anticipation of
Tim's kiss. The sound of tearing fabric rent the air as Tim bent
over, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue flick and rub over
every inch of Seann's mouth. And Seann was answering his kiss with
his own deep suction and exploration of Tim's mouth with his
tongue.

"Untie me. let me touch you," Seann whispered when Tim broke off
the kiss to cut through the man's belt.

Tim grinned wolfishly, ripping off Seann's ruined trousers in one
sweep of his arm. "If you're a good fuck, I'll let you touch me
later," he said, pushing Seann's shirt up to above the man's
nipples. He gave the nipples and the flat stomach a long languid
lick, then looked at Seann's thick cock throbbing towards his
stomach. Tim gave the pulsing head a brief lick, savoring the
taste.

Seann gave an excited/terrified yelp when Tim lifted the man,
still trussed up, over his shoulders. He was laughing when Tim sat
on the chair and pushed Seann's dry, unprepared anus down his
thick turgid cock. The man only gasped softly, eyes closed in
rapture, when Tim's cock rend the man's tender flesh apart,
tearing apart the tight muscular anal walls, until Tim groaned at
the really tight friction of his cock against the walls of the
anus. He lifted Seann's hips roughly, bruising the man, and Seann
cried out in pain. As Tim bucked in the chair, pumping short, hard
thrusts into Seann, his hands pinched and clawed at Seann's chest
and stomach until Seann shook his head and screamed in the
pleasure of Tim's savage fucking. He looked down at the trickle of
blood running down his thigh to Tim's, the red liquid and the pain
driving him out of control. Spasms after spasms of agony rocked
through him, sending red-hot pleasures surging and electrifying
his senses, until the world faded from his consciousness. Until
there was nothing but that thick cock shooting steaming juices up
his burning, torn anus and the searing, earth-shattering climax
only such sweet agony could bring.



In the mirror, he was a tall, well-muscled, and slim man who
looked just like what he was - a merciless, ruthless killer. Tim
grinned at his reflection, and rubbed at the purple-red bite marks
on his chest. They stung slightly, a gift from Seann's skilful
mouth. He turned to look at the man still tied up on the bed, his
arms and legs tied spread-eagled to each bedpost.

"You really should untie me," Seann said weakly. "I want to touch
you."

Tim shook his head as he looked at Seann in the mirror.

"How long are you going to keep me tied up and naked in your bed?
What if I need to piss and shit?"

Good question. Tim jumped onto the bed, over Seann's body. Placing
his hands on each sides of Robert's head on the pillow, he settled
to lie over the man's body. "You know, I will keep you here until
I figure out how to stop you from disrupting Hell's Pit. It's bad
for business." Tim growled, nudging the tip of his cock against
Seann's exposed anal pucker. "So, how about a quick fuck before I
start my day?" he asked even as he started sliding his penis up
Seann's ass, which closed over him in warm welcome.

As Tim pumped his cock, crying out his climax five minutes later,
he knew. He would keep Seann tied up and naked here at his
exclusive use always and at all time, until he inadvertently got
bored of this man. Seann had better pray that day wouldn't be
soon, because Tim had no intention of letting him walk out of here
alive.



TWO

Tim calmly reloaded his gun. The man cowered at the ground,
whimpering to be spared the fate that had his two buddies lying on
the ground with their heads blown off. "Sorry, buddy, nothing
personal," Tim said, taking aim.

The man's action caught him by surprise. He gasped in anger at his
own carelessness when the hypodermic needle jabbed into his thigh.
As the content of the syringe entered his bloodstream, he
staggered as his vision began to blur. As he staggered before
falling onto the floor, however, he saw something even more
shocking.

Seann walked into the room. The man who attacked Tim wasn't aware
of the other man's presence until Seann delivered a vicious kick
that distinctly cracked the man's skull.

"Hi," Seann said to Tim, grinning as he pressed the sole of his
heavy boot against the right cheek of the fallen man. "Tim, you
ought to seek some more entertaining company." He looked down and
started to whistle as if he was taking a stroll down a park
instead of driving his foot down hard on the man's face.

Tim tried to laugh, but he slipped into darkness before he could
utter a sound.



The first person he saw when he opened his eyes was, as he was
hoping, Seann. His goofy grin as always in place, he stood at the
side of Tim's bed, obviously enjoying Tim's headache and
humiliation.

"How did you find me?" Tim tried to ask.

"I was a Boy Scout. There are a lot of things I can do," Seann
answered simply. "I thought of tying you up, but I realized I like
it better when it's you doing the tying." When Tim tried to stand
up, he pushed the man down in surprising gentleness. "Whoa, stay
down. Don't worry about Simmy."

Tim gurgled in weak laughter. Trust Seann to call the much-feared
boss Simon the more ignoble name of Simmy.

"I have a nice long talk with Simmy, and he understands how even
the best slip up once a while. So you'll just rest and don't worry
about anything."

When Seann sat on Tim's desk to read a book (Mind Discipline, Tim
read the title with some surprise), however, Tim saw Seann's
wounded hand, the bandage now freshly bloodied and missing the
last finger. He knew Simon was never that forgiving, but the
thought of Seann taking the punishment intended for Tim caused a
strange feeling to warm the chill in his heart.



Tim got on his feet later that day even though it hurt him the
first few steps, because he was terrified of Seann's reckless ways
drawing Simon's wrath. It was a gratifying notion to learn that
Seann saved his life, because no one had ever actually did such a
thing for him before. He kissed the man's bandaged hand gently
that night as he fucked Seann, and vowed that he would take good
care of this mad man under him.

His underlings had long learned to tolerate his sexual
peccadilloes, but Seann had earned their wary respect, Tim
learned, the day the man saved their boss' life. Loyalty was one
of the most hard-earned guarantee of survival in Hell's Pit, and
Seann had earned theirs the day he revealed a bloodthirsty cruel
streak, frightening in its nonchalance and contrast with Seann's
goofy frail appearance, that rivaled Tim's.

Seann hadn't uttered a sound when Simon had his finger chopped off
with a blunt cleaver, but it was said that the insane, aroused
gleam in the man's eyes terrified even Simon.

Tim's respect for Seann was raised a notch when he saw the corpse
of the asshole who tried to kill him. Tim's men found Seann
whistling the tune of 'Our Father, God Celestial' as he casually,
easily shattered the man's ribcage and ruptured his liver and
intestines with several well-aimed kicks even as the man lay dying
from the concussion in his head. He had long known that Seann was
insane - the man took painkillers the way a thirsty man drank
because pain was the only way he could get sexually aroused, and
without painkillers, there was a risk that he could lose all
control and destroy himself.

"The painkillers never work," Seann told Tim one night as Tim held
him. "Even those books I read - how to control myself and other
rot - don't work."

"I won't let you hurt yourself," Tim said, kissing the man's
forehead.

"Well, I love the way you hurt me," Seann said. "You're creative,
not like those boring twits whose idea of pain is to whip the belt
as if I'm cattle." As Tim bit into Seann's nipple, drawing blood,
Seann shivered in delicious pleasure. "Oh yes, like that. You mix
pain with pleasure so well, I'm actually going to be sorry when
you kill me."

"I won't kill you," Tim said, meaning every word. When he was with
Seann, his cock spearing Seann's anus, his hips a relentless
piston as he balled Seann hard, he could forget the strenuous
foothold of his position in Hell's Pit, the tiresome killings, and
the fact that he might as well die tomorrow. He could even pretend
that he and Seann were two normal people who could feel emotions
like love.

"I had a dream. I saw us in a nice big ranch in lush green fields.
We have a large overweight rottweiler named Bratwurst and a border
collie named Liverwurst. It's so fucking sweet that I know it must
be a dream," Seann said, his eyes closed as he slowly fell asleep.

"It's a dream." Tim said, looking at the man beside him sleep. In
repose, with the madness at bay, Seann looked vulnerable and.
normal, a nice guy anyone would be more than happy to take home to
meet his parents.

"But it was lovely while it lasted," Seann murmured.

Tim felt his heart hurt. He burrowed his head into the warmth of
Tim's shoulder, inhaling the man's scent even as he thrust his
hips up to drive his now sated and flaccid cock up as deep as
Seann as possible. Because he feared that he could lose
precarious, unpredictable Seann any moment, and he knew he might
not be able to live with that loss.



THREE

Brian Littrell coughed, stale blood from his throat flooding his
mouth. He had no idea how long they had kept him here in this
sunless room, but at least they had stopped beating him bloody for
today.

He winced when sunlight flooded his room, blinding him painfully.

"Hello Nemesis. You really should stop busting your ass for
Control," the man who was a black silhouette in Brian's blinded
vision said as he unlocked Brian's manacles.

Brian's vision slowly returned. He saw Seann, a thin trail of
blood at one corner of his mouth, and a dead guard at the floor
outside the cell. He, a veteran of many gory scenes, couldn't help
but to recoil from the wild, bloodlust-induced exhilaration in
Sean's bright eyes.

"Sorry I'm late. It takes time to win people's trust and find out
where you're held," Seann said. "Can you run?"

Brian winced as he took a step. "I'll manage," he said as dry as
he could in his pain, his sarcasm lost on the other man.

Seann looked at the body on the floor and licked his lips, perhaps
unconsciously. He reached down and picked up the man's gun. Brian
accepted the gun, noting how Seann's hands trembled slightly as he
did so. He sighed - Seann had lost all control.

But first things first. "Come on, let's get out of here."



Brian looked out of the truck window. "Seann, what are you doing?"

"I'm not coming with you." Seann stopped in his walking away.

"Seann - "

"Brian," Seann interrupted, his voice hard. "Look at me. I've lost
all control of myself, and you know what? It feels fucking good. I
don't want to try to be who I'm not any more. I love to kill. I
won't fit in the nice, safe world out there, Brian. Besides, Tim
needs someone to watch his back."

"There are ways to help you, Seann," Brian started to say.

"Brian, I haven't taken painkillers for a month." Seann spread his
hands and chuckled, and for a moment Brian saw Seann as the happy,
carefree young man that he might have been in another life. "By
losing control I've finally gained control of myself. Paradoxical?
Who gives a fuck? Go home, Brian. You've found your happy ending,
let me find mine, okay?"

Brian looked away, hiding his tears from Seann who wouldn't
understand. A part of him was torn apart to bleed because he would
forever live with the knowledge that it was he who was the
catalyst for Seann's final loss of his humanity and willing
descent into madness. And he grieved too for the man who couldn't
survive his past. Seann was too well trained and too damaged to
let go.

He grieved, weeping for Seann and for all of them. His vision
blurred, and in an angry shake of his head, he cleared his eyes of
his tears. But by then, Seann was gone.



EPILOGUE

Tim aimed his gun at Seann's head. If his hand trembled and Seann
noticed it, the latter showed no indication that he had.

"Why?" Tim asked, his voice finally breaking.

"It's something I have to do," Seann said, closing his eyes and
awaiting the end. "Guess I'm not as heartless as I thought." He
took a deep breath. "But we've had a great time, didn't we, Tim?
And I don't even know your name," he said with some smidgen of
regret in his voice.

Tim looked away, too battered and bruised emotionally to look at
Seann. It hurt, it really hurt. He gritted his teeth, hardened his
resolve, and before he could change his mind, fired.

Seann opened his eyes warily, somewhat disappointed that he wasn't
dead.

"It's Olyphant. Timothy Olyphant's my real name," Tim said. "And I
will kill you if I hear even one fucking elephant joke from you."

Seann looked at the dead man at the floor. "Simmy will kill you
for this, Tim," he said, a tremor of excitement in his voice. "You
just killed his man."

Tim only grabbed him in a crushing embrace and kissed him hard.
"It's time for a new change in leadership anyway," he said with a
sly grin. "Shall we go home?"

Seann laughed. He and Tim, together they would rule the world.
"Come on, let's go shake up Hell's Pit."