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The Gentleman's Club	By : BrittGirl Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Panic! At The Disco Views: 4325 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, I do not own/or know any of the celebrities mentioned. I do not make a profit from this story, it is merely for entertainment's sake.

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Emily was becoming very, very familiar with the pattern on the carpet of their bedroom floor. She swore that she spent almost as much time staring at that damn royal blue color, that she did staring at the pristine blackness of their ceiling. But she didn’t know which she hated more, the physical pain or the sexual pleasure. Both were as bad as the other one, she hated the closeness that she felt when Pete was on top of her, making her scream his name, making her feel things that she didn’t feel with other people. But she hated the intimate humiliation that his punishments always provided as well. So to try and decide which was worse? Was impossible.

The tears had started long before his hand had begun to beat a hard tattoo on her small ass, brought on by the lecture he liked to provide before the actual punishment came. She hated the lecture bit, he knew that, and he exploited it for all it was worth, oftentimes milking it for almost as long as he would spank, just to make sure she was sufficiently broken down. Then he could start the physical aspect of it all.

Her body was limp as he spanked her, her cheeks going from pale, to blushing pink, and finally to cherry red. When they reached that color, Pete would take up the hairbrush and finish her punishment with 20 or 30 hard slaps. Sometimes she would bruise because of it, and always there would be a lot more tears and a lot more lecturing. This time was no exception, her body flinched with each hard swat, until her legs were kicking and she was squirming a bit harder against the grasp he had around her waist with his free hand. “Pete, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Once the pleas started, he slowed the spanking down. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Three times the brush flashed down and then it was all over. Pete tossed the brush to the ground and flipped her up to stand, his own body straightening with hers as he smashed his lips down against hers hard. His erection was straining against the denim of his skinny jeans, she could feel it against her thigh as he held her body against his, cupping her sore bottom in his hands, making her give a small cry against his mouth. He backed her into the bed, both of them tumbling into the sheets she had just been sleeping in, mussing them further.

This was the reward for her misbehavior. The reward for taking her spanking so well. This was the part that Emily enjoyed. And this was the part that she detested more then any punishment he could ever give her.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

Gabe Saporta was different from the rest of them.

It wasn’t anything outwardly physical, Gabe was just as good-looking, just as talented, just as sadistic as the rest of their little “club,” but Gabe wasn’t the guy to steal girls off the street like Pete was, he wasn't the guy who took fan girls like Martin, he wasn’t the guy who did a mail-order bride service like Brendon.

No, Gabe met the girl he tortured through a mutual friend. They’d gotten drunk together, they’d hooked up, and he called back the next day. Gabe had been dating her for almost 2 years now, and he knew that she was his forever. No matter how much he cheated, no matter how horribly he treated her, the girl stayed glued to his side. She stayed at home and cooked him food and made sure the apartment was clean, and dressed up in little outfits for him. Then he would come home and beat the shit out of her.

That was normal, right?

His girlfriend’s name was Beth. Beth was 22 years old, a few years younger then Gabriel, but to him she was perfect. She was everything that Gabe had found appealing in a woman, quiet, shy, submissive, but sexy as all hell. Like Gabe, Beth had Latin roots, her father was Columbian and her mother was Swedish, and Beth? Beth was an exotic little thing, curvy and slender, delicate, with rich, chestnut brown hair, bright green eyes, a little girl voice that begged him so sweetly to stop… Just thinking about her when he was away from her made him hard. That was how Gabe knew he loved her; when he wasn’t with her, he craved her. It worked out perfectly!

For him, at least.

For her it was a little bit different, since she was never the one to fair well from what he did. Her bruises were hidden beneath thick makeup and long sleeves, jeans and sunglasses, while he walked around as if he owned the world. Nobody suspected that the seemingly perfect couple was really much less then perfect, that behind closed doors was a horror story in the making. His band members occasionally swore they heard slapping sounds when they were on tour and he brought her along, but Gabe would just make some lame joke about Beth being into "kinky shit" and no one would say anything more. Inevitably, Gabriel knew that one day he would lose interest in the girl he kept at his side dilligently, but while he had her in his grasp, he was enjoying to the fullest the control that she gave him over her. There was no other feeling of masculinity in the world to him and if he had his way, he would forever stay young so he could carry it on for the rest of eternity. She was--as much as he would never admit it-- just a plaything to him. If that ever changed, it would be a surprise to him.
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The Gentleman's Club