The Gentlemen's Club

Taylor nodded.

"And I will not return with anyone else. I will promise that as well."

Taylor wanted to believe it.

"The door to the guest bedrooms also lock from the inside, they're upstairs and to the right. Take any you like," he went on. You'll find the bathrooms and kitchen where you'd expect them."

Taylor nodded on again. It was starting to dawn on him that he wasn't going home.

"My phone?" he asked. "My parents..."

Frederick nodded. "I will ask for it. And your other things," he said, standing back up and turning toward the door. He stopped again after a few paces, "You can leave, too, if you like. Through this door," he said, pointing at the entrance. "You won't get much further yet, until they have your thumbprint on the records, but you can leave. I... thought it was important for you to know."

Not a captive of this room, just this floor, Taylor thought with little comfort.

Frederick left, giving a final, apologetic look. Taylor watched the door for a minute before turning back around and letting the warm morning sunlight bathe over him. Surely, it was real. But this view was from twenty stories up. That didn't make any sense, it had to be fake.

He took the stairs up to the second floor slowly, pausing every dozen or so for breath. It was at least a forty feet up, he thought. He found a series of guest rooms with the doors all propped open, letting a mysterious, but light, breeze in across the white sheets and polished wood. It was like being in an old English estate, he thought. He closed the heavy double doors on both sides of the room and bolted them closed. The bathroom that was attached was larger than his apartment, with another rain shower in the center of the room, unenclosed. He took his time, and when he finally collapsed onto the puffy, white sheets, all impossibly soft, he was sure it must be lunchtime out in the real world. Somewhere out there, the other interns might ask be asking each other where the new guy had gone, as they stuffed cold sandwiches into their mouths, curled over their laptops.

Did someone tell his boss? Had his father received the tape yet, he wondered with a pang of shame and horror.

The room was silent, and the pillowy duvet engulfed him. The outside world felt so remote now. He drifted quickly to sleep once again.

When he awoke, if felt like hours had passed. Outside the room, the skyline had gone dark. Frederick still hadn't returned (or at least he hadn't found him). There was no food on the table, and he found the refrigerator was nearly empty, save for a few cans of soda. The cabinets held fine china and sparkling silverware, but little else. He could feel his stomach grumbling again.

He strolled around the main floor to pass the time. He found a pool hall, a small corner room with a hot tub built into the ground beside a wet bar and what seemed like a patio table. There was a library that felt like its own enclosed world, and even had a rolling ladder to reach the higher shelves, like out of an old movie. Room after room of wasted wealth, he thought. The place was spotlessly clean, but it was also clearly unused -all of it. He would have bet anything that Frederick had never spent more than a week here, in all the years he must have owned it.

I wouldn't, if I were him.

Taylor spent the day exploring the place, doing his best to stay distracted. It was nearing daylight again when Frederick returned, looking worn thin. He took one look at the boy and his eyes went wide. "What happened? Did you get any sleep?"

Taylor shook his head, starting the other man. "No, I mean I did. I'm okay. Just starving..."

"My God," Frederick said, bounding over to the wall. His finger brushed a device on the wall. "Send something up. Whatever's already ready. Enough for four," he said, and the line cut off again. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about it. We're... I think we should be okay, but I need to catch you up."

Frederic lead him to a seat beside the fire, which he thankfully diled down to embers.

"The others have been notified of your status, and you can now come and go with all the protection the Club can offer."

Taylor didn't want to know how they had his fingerprints on file. "But?"

Frederick nodded, "But it only buys us time. First, your father. I can't tell you everything, but I can tell you the plans that I've heard. He's being followed, and the video's ready but being held for the right time. They won't apply pressure until they think it will work. If he gives in once, it'll be easier the next time. Whether that means a week or a month, I don't know. But, if he doesn't give in, they're likely to plant evidence against him. They'll make the charge go away," he said, noticing Taylor's distress, "but they'll hold it over him for when they need it."

"And what can we do about it?"

Frederick shook his head. "I don't know that there's much that we can do, unless you think you can convince him to end his fight and bend to our will.

Taylor shook his head again. They were acquaintances, at best, but he knew his father was unlikely to bend, if it came to his career.

"Then that brings us to the second issue," Frederick went on. "An apprenticeship lasts for three months. Think of it as a trial membership. Before that time's up, you'll need the committee's vote for full membership."

Taylor heard the worry in his voice. "And how do I do that?"

Frederick grimaced. "I'm still working on it. The situation is... unusual. Most apprentices are sons, or we get the occasional business partner. Sometimes it's a business rival that we haven't been able to crush and instead bring into the fold. But you're different. To them," he said, holding up his hands, "your value has already been taken."

Taylor felt his hands shaking at that. Fury, buried beneath shame.

"They assume I'm... infatuated with you." Taylor felt his cheeks warm suddenly. "And it's best to let them think that, for now," Frederick went on. "They won't understand. But, in a few month's time, we'll need to prove you have a role beyond that. That you can provide some value to the entire Club."

Taylor rubbed at his eyes, suddenly exhausted again. "Well, I've got nothing for them, so I don't know what you want from me. This was your plan."

"I kn-" Frederick was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Open front door," he said. The front door audibly unlocked. A small man in an apron pushed a large cart inside and began setting the meal up on the dining room table. The man made no eye contact as he set the silverware straight, bowed, and quickly left.

"How do they do it?" Taylor asked bitterly. "How do they see all this, and serve you dinner?"

"We give them money. You'll find that's usually enough."

They ate in silence, Taylor found he had an appetite, despite everything. It was all wonderful, every bite of it.

Frederick rubbed at his face, obviously weary, and pushed his plates aside. "I know you don't want to talk about this, but we'll need a plan. There are eight members you need to win over before that time is up. Some of them should be easy, and we can buy them off. But not enough of them. Most members' accounts start in the upper hundred million, so you won't be buying them off for cheap.

"Luckily for you, I don't actually intend to train you in business, so we can make this our only priority. At least for now. Our task will be winning over as many as we can, convincing them you can help them personally. This keeps you safe for a few months, at least, and we can use that time to help your father as much as we can. But, in the end, he makes his own decisions and he will live with those decisions. Do you understand that?"

Frederick's eyes, bright and blue, starred down at him, trying to convey some internal struggle he faced.

Taylor starred down at his empty plate. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do for them. Like, an intern again?"

He knew it sounded absurd. They didn't want some lackey. They wanted someone who was going to make them money.

"No, not like an intern again. Taylor, do you know what I do?" Taylor shook his head. "What do you think I do?"

"Do you... own properties? Trade stock?" Frederick shook his head at each response. "Manage money? I don't know."

"I keep others out of the race," he said. "Bribes, coercion, blackmail, trickery. Everything we'll do to your father. I already have my investments. All of us, every member here, is in the business of keeping everyone else out of the race."

Taylor grit his teeth. It was a cynical idea. It was short-sighted. It was certainly not "for the good of the community," or whatever bullshit it was Frederick had promised him. These parasites were sucking the world dry.

"So," Taylor said, "if I help them get rid of their competition, they might let you keep me? Is that what it is?"

Frederick waggled his hand. "More or less. But, thankfully for you, that is what I excel at. I'll line them up, you'll do the legwork. If they can be won over, at least. I don't know who-"

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone was at Frederick's front door. He held up a finger, telling Taylor to stay still, and strode the long way back to the front door. Taylor crept along and watched from the door way.

It was an older man -much older. Quite large, with a shaved chin and a very loose hold on his robe. He was swaying, clearly drunk, and had a smile stretched as far as his face would allow.

"-him now. Let's party, come on," the man shouted, rocking wildly. "Let's see if he's worth it," the man laughed.

"Worth what?" Frederick asked, his voice barely audible.

"My vote! They gave me the board vote on... your newest guest," he laughed. "Now where is that tight piece of ass," he said, his small eyes scanning the room, somehow missing Taylor. "Just like that little fucker from... enh.. wherever it... Copy boy. You take the front, I take the back, enh?"

Frederick's eyes found him, and they looked hollow. Taylor watched him watch as the man pushed past him, now discarding his robe, his cock a small, pale lump below his large belly.

"What the fuck?" Taylor whispered.

"Taylor," Frederick called out, "I know this isn't what you want to hear right now. But I think we can get you one vote," he said, pushing the front door closed.

7

"Where is he?" the man shouted, from down the hall. Taylor shook his head, his eyes locked on Frederick's. He could hear the stranger stumbling through the rooms, calling for him. "I'm ready," the man sang out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think he would be here so soon. You don't have to do this tonight," Frederick said. "No one will stop you if you leave. No one will harm you until the votes are counted."

"I don't want to do this."

"I know."

"The whole point of joining was to not do this," Taylor said urgently. It was hard to emphasis the point enough. "I thought I was going to be your apprentice."

"I know," Frederick said, beginning to unbutton his shirt. "The only difference here is that you decide what you want to do. And when it ends." Frederick dropped his shirt to the floor, exposing a tight roll of abs coated in a thin layer of red and gray fur. The sharp curves of his pelvis dipped down into his belt, drawing the boy's gaze despite himself. Frederick was gone a moment later.

When Taylor finally made his way to the hot tub's edge, they were already a glass of champagne in, nude, but on opposite sides of the tub, their feet barely touching.

"There he is!" the stranger shouted, finally noticing him.

"Boy," Frederick called over. "This is Bill Wardings. Bill, this is our new friend. Say hi, boy," he said, nodding solemnly when the man's back was turned. "He's shy," Frederick mock whispered, when Taylor didn't respond. "But he's an extra-hard worker. Aren't you, boy?"

Taylor nodded, his face grim. The room was stony silent, save for the sound of bubbling water jets.

"Ooooh, don't be shy!" Bill shouted, his face even brighter red than before, either from the heat or the drinks. "I'm friendly," he bellowed, slapping the water playfully. "Are you? Why aren't you joining us? I've heard so many fun stories about you already."

Don't think about it.

Taylor closed his eyes and pulled his shirt from over his head. He dropped his trousers quickly from behind the bench and stepped quickly into the tub. It was hotter than he expected, but he submerged himself in the burning water to avoid the stares. He sank down until his chin was under water, carefully positioned in the middle to be the furthest he could from either of them.

The man named Bill was faster than he looked. Drunk, heavy, partially submerged, he was still in Taylor's lap before the boy could even register him coming. Bill's small, hard cock prodding him in the belly, his legs gripped hard around the boy's waist, pinning him. "See?" he said, "Friendly!" he laughed.

Taylor turned his head, straining to look away. The stranger took the opportunity to bury his face on the boy's smooth neck, licking and sucking messily, his hands rubbing hard against anywhere he could grab. First the boy's nipples, and then his belly.

"Ugh," Bill grunted hard, with his lips pressed against skin. His lips found Taylor's mouth a moment later, his tongue hungrily digging inside. Taylor could feel the man humping down against his body, his movements slow from the water. He gagged as the tongue pressed deeper into his mouth. Somehow, it was worse than all the other violations of his mouth.

Bill was out of the water again with surprising speed, his hand finding Taylor's and spinning him around. Bill pulled, trying to tug the boy from the water.

Frederick's hands were at Taylor's hips suddenly from behind. "Be gentle, Bill," he said, guiding the boy out of the water again. "This one's fresh. You have to play gentle. And he's sore like you wouldn't believe."

Taylor climbed out of the water and found Bill sitting on the padded couch that lay beside the tub. The silence and slight echo of the place was oppressive before, but now it felt suffocating. He covered himself as best he could and stepped where the lights were dimmest while he waited for Frederick to emerge.

"The boy needs us to keep him safe, Bill," Frederick went on, guiding Taylor forward again, with his hands on the boy's narrow hips. "He needs to know you'll let him stay, that we'll keep him safe. Together."

"Mmmm," Bill said, spilling backward onto the couch, his hands finding another drink. "That's a lot to ask... He really wants to be one of us?"

"Mmhmm," Frederick said, letting go of the boy and sitting down beside Bill. His cock was rock hard and dark red, Taylor saw. Is he enjoying this?

"That's a big ask..." Bill said, gently masturbating himself. "More than a few have killed just to visit once. And he's just a babe in the woods."

Frederick uncorked another bottle of champagne, the sound deafening. "He needs protection, Bill. He needs a good home. He wants to stay here and work hard for us. Isn't that right, boy?"

Taylor said nothing.

"He's too shy, Williams! I don't see what I can do for him. He doesn't seem like terribly good company so far."

Frederick dropped in the man's lap, and kissed him deeply. "For me?" he asked, after a long moment.

Taylor's eyes darted between them.

Bill sighed deeply, and then sighed again even more loudly. "One chance!" he said, rolling Frederick off of him. "I'll give him one chance to show me why he's worth keeping when fresh boys are a dime a dozen. One chance!"

Frederick clapped his hands and shot a grin in the boy's direction. "He's a man of character, our Bill! Kindest heart alive."

Bill pulled his legs onto the deep couch with a mighty tug, and then pulled them closer to his chest, cradling himself into a fetal position. "But if he doesn't eat my ass like lives depend on it, then I'll personally make sure his mother's down there tomorrow, begging for the chance," he said, his face suddenly sober and harsh.

Taylor felt the world shift off-balance around him again. He couldn't will his lungs to exhale. He could feel the oxygen cutting off; his brain was suddenly weightless. Bile poured into his stomach.

But he didn't faint. The feeling of helpless terror was becoming far too common for that. And if he passed out now, the chance would be gone.

Don't think about it.

It was becoming a mantra.

One step at a time. Only one path to take.

There was nothing else to be done about it. Frederick's hand waved at something near the wall, and the lights dimmed until they were all just shapes in the dark.

Taylor urged his leg forward, and then the next. Don't think about it. Move!

His shins hit the edge of the couch cushion suddenly, catching him off-guard and dropping his knees onto the surface. He scooted further in, using Bill's damp thigh as a guide, positioning himself between the man's hairy legs. Taylor could feel the mess of dense hair, still wet from the water, growing thicker the further in it ran. The man's balls and small, swollen cock shone bright in the dim lighting. But... below... it was only dense hair and darkness.

Taylor lowered his face down, his cheeks burning, as Bill rocked himself back a little further. Somewhere behind him, Frederick must be there watching in silence. Was he still hard from this?

Bill's body radiated heat out like a furnace. His massive body soon blocked out everything else as Taylor leaned in and buried his face in the man's wide crack, the hair engulfing his lips and cheeks.

Bill grunted, and grabbed Taylor by the head, pushing him hard in the right direction. Taylor felt it, the deep ridges of the man's hole, the soft skin, the sudden clearing of hair, and his body winced, instinctively retracting away.

Bill pushed his head in harder, moving him back in place. Taylor spat out his tongue, and dragged it up. Bill shook, his clutch momentarily loosening, and moaned hard. Taylor tried again, and the man's body quivered violently. Once Taylor found the rhythm the man wanted, Bill's hand dropped to rest gently on Taylor's shoulder. Taylor kept his eyes shut, burying his face in deeper, keeping his tongue wide and wet, lapping at the tight line of skin like a dog. Until, suddenly it wasn't so tight, and the tip of his tongue slipped lightly inside.

Bill went wild, his cock suddenly swelling hard against the boy's head. The man gripped his erection hard and began to stroke it again furiously. Taylor could feel the pounding above him. "Get in there," Bill moaned, using his legs to pull the boy in tighter.

Taylor shut his eyes tighter, and gripped his hands tighter, pulling himself hard into the man's hole. His tongue found the right spot and pressing in again hard, his fat tongue tight and rigid, trying to push in deeper. It didn't seem to go in far, no matter how hard he forced it. He pumped his head wildly, the soreness in his jaw nearing unbearable from the strain of keeping his tongue stiff. Bill's fist rained down hard above him. Then, with a strength he would never have expected, Bill grabbed him by the hair, pulling Taylor's lips away, and slamming them back down around his cock. Bill held him tight for what felt like an eternity, the older man's body spasming wildly beneath him, his cock as hard as a rock, stretched to bursting. Then, just as quickly, he melted beneath the boy, his cock pumping stream after stream of hot, viscous cum along the walls of his mouth. Bill trembled, his limbs falling helplessly to the side, his cock still dribbling the last of it. Taylor couldn't hold it any longer, and couldn't swallow. He choked, and the semen dripped from his mouth, splattering onto the man's pubic hair. Bill didn't seem to notice. His eyes were glazed and half-closed.

Taylor slipped his mouth off the man and swallowed the last in two gulps. Bill's cock had already shriveled and retreated by the time Taylor stood back up. Frederick was there standing over him again, now holding a towel. The boy wiped his face and cast another look at Bill, who seemed to have fallen asleep.