This story takes place only a few years after Wendy's first visit to
Neverland with Peter Pan, so it is considered a follow-up to the 2003 P.J.
Hogan film Peter Pan (with some references to the original Barrie novel
[1911] and his own Peter Pan prequel, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
[1904]).
!!BIG MEGA-WARNING!!: If any of y'all have been wondering why this fic is rated 'R' (or what this "next great adventure" of Wendy's specifically entails), this is precisely it. In fact, I'm gonna just jump right into an NC-17 rating on this chapter alone. Things get MIGHTILY heavy from here on out, so if you are not of a proper maturity level or are inordinately sensitive to more Adult material, I advise an aversion of the eyes! I am aware I will probably lose a sizable chunk of my 'regular' readers after this, but hopefully most of you will see what I am trying to convey here and stick around nonetheless, for this certainly serves a purpose. Also, this chapter is QUITE long. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...My apologies to Mr. Barrie for what I am about to put his beloved characters through. :-P
So, with that, here's Chapter XIV .....Bring on the deluge!!! ;-)
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XIV. TIME TO GROW UP
Well after daylight had fallen into its repose did the Jolly Roger finally reclaim its captain. He was a man tormented, having spent many futile hours in the forests of Neverland hunting, though for what exactly becoming less and less clear to him.
He must have strolled the perimeter of the whole island twenty times that day. In fact, he had, at more then one point, found himself among the dark thicket of trees directly beneath Peter Pan's long-sought after hideout. Had the Captain the presence of mind to simply look skyward just once, this entire chapter of our story might have turned out wholly different. But such as it is, Hook pressed on, leaving Peter's domain as yet undetected.
For all his heated deliberations that day, Hook had come up with very little of any tangibility. The more he walked, the less justification he could find for his dilemmas. All which stayed him on his endless path around and around Neverland was his impenetrable pride.
How detestable for a man as he to fall to such submission over the whims of a GIRL. If his dogs knew the truth in his heart, they would mutiny at once. He was James Hook, after all – the only man whom Barbeque ever feared, and even Flint himself feared Barbeque!
Aye, but there was the quandary. Was not pride and arrogance the precise vices which had driven Wendy from Peter Pan? Was not his whole grand mission to prove to Wendy how so much more valiant than the Boy was Hook? Perhaps it was not too late. This was the prospect which led the Captain back to his ship.
Hook boarded from the stern and carved a direct path to his cabin, expecting the girl to be awaiting his return. She was not there, however, and Hook grew anxious at once. He dashed from the stateroom calling out her name, but all he found was Smee, shuffling up the steps from the lower deck to attend to his captain.
As the bosun approached, he tossed a thumb toward the bow. Hook's eyes shot in that direction, and indeed he saw the flash of white standing tall against the black night, its back to him.
"She's been there nearly all day," Smee relayed. "Just standin' 'n' watchin'. I suppose somthin' be troublin' 'er."
"Do you suppose, Smee?" Hook muttered flatly, his eyes remaining aft.
Smee fidgeted uncomfortably. Hook took a single step forward before turning to his bosun.
"Get thee below decks," he instructed thoughtfully. "Tell the others to remain there as well for the remainder of the evening."
"What about the watchmen, Cap'n?"
"Give them a bottle of my best rum and the night off."
But Smee remained whence he stood, blinking oddly at Hook.
"Didst thou not hear me, Mr. Smee?" Hook seethed.
"Aye, Cap'n!" came the quick reply, and Smee scurried back down the stairs and into the crew quarters below.
Hook commenced his advance on Wendy almost in slow motion. He grappled for one concrete thought on which to affix, but he could not. He walked as if not quite under his own power. 'Twas not until he had made his way up the steps to the bow and suddenly found himself but a few yards facing the girl that he bade himself stop a moment.
Every notion which had passed through his mind in the jungle that day had brought him to this precise point. Drawn at his feet was an invisible threshold. He could either cross it or turn back at once. Either way, his decision would prove exceptionally crucial. Indulgences were a natural convention for a man of his station. And standing within arm's length of him was the one beautiful thing which he found he no longer wished to obliterate. Now, he wished to wholly possess it, if only for a night, just to expel it from his system once and for all, and by the next sunrise, he would be assuaged of his curse and could hence return to the proper matters at hand. This seemed the only acceptable option. Thus Hook proceeded forward.
Wendy had sensed his presence straight away, but she maintained her poise, preferring to wait on his instigation. She had indeed been standing in that spot for hours, and whence the first couple of them had been devoted to a vigil for Peter, the rest soon dissolved into a vigil for Hook as well. She found her thoughts of the Boy to be too painful to entertain, and in turn, she discovered her own alarming anticipation at finding true solace from the Captain. When she felt him take his first steps toward her, instinctively her mouth twitched with the memory at his rather overzealous attempt at consolation earlier that morning, and the more time she spent with this recollection, the greater her appreciation for it grew. But still there was Peter...
Hook approached slowly so as not to startle her, and she strived to keep her composure, concentrating her gaze upon the tranquil seas beyond. When he was but inches near, he let his body close in around her, moving his face close to her ear. Wendy stayed her ground even as he slipped his arms beneath hers and rested them on the railing.
"Forget him, Wendy," he said softly, his voice like velvet. "He is just a boy."
These words she had been repeating to herself all day long, and to finally hear them aloud somehow lent them more credence. Perhaps it was just the syrupy way in which Hook eased them into her ear that made them seem so much more tolerable. In any case, Wendy heard the words and could scarce but accede to them. Or to Hook.
Wendy drew in a breath, one of both relief and trepidation, and gradually began to turn toward the Captain. He opened up his stance upon the girl to allow her movement but kept his arms vaguely outstretched, silently offering himself for a pillar. With the merest of sad smiles, Wendy fell quietly into his arms, her cheek pressed to his chest. Hook sealed his arms around her but kept his menacing claw at a distance. She melted into him, nearly getting lost in his lavish waistcoat and ruff. At last she let go her breath, and with it seemed to depart a great deal of her cares. Nobody had ever embraced her like this – at least, no man had. Not even her own father. And she found it such a comfort that she nearly began to weep anew.
Hook brazenly let his hand drift from the base of her waist and up her back, beneath her hair, and over the exposed skin around her neck. At this, Wendy's unease returned, but she tried to squelch it. Surely, 'twas nothing more than a gesture of succor on his part. Yet it elicited that odd stirring in her belly which had arisen after their dance in his stateroom. It was so intimate that she instantly felt embarrassed to be experiencing it at such close proximity to the Captain. Would he sense it? And if he did, what awful things would he think of her?
Hook did detect it somewhat, and it caused his heart to start pounding rapidly, which Wendy heard plainly in her ear pressed to his chest. Thus she realized, alarmingly, that he must be feeling the very same strange stirrings! She must be somehow encouraging it, and this gave her great unrest. She felt perhaps that she must break away at once lest she bring about a query to which she could not reply.
When she lifted her head from his chest, Hook had his hand at the back of her neck, and he tried to flex it so that Wendy would look him in the eyes. If only she would look him in the eyes, he could inquire anything of her. But she would not budge, and she began to pick at his ruff with her fingers in a faux act of flippancy, as if removing bits of lint that were really not there. Hook could not help but grin at her girlish apprehension, and it only heightened his desire to catch her gaze.
Removing his fingers from her neck, he now brought them to her chin, gently forcing her face upward. Wendy could scarce deny him any longer, and with a guarded brow she allowed herself to look at him. The Captain looked so bizarrely different to her – though not altogether in a bad way. She saw a grave vulnerability in his typically cold eyes which she could never have imagined he possessed.
Hook saw plainly her secret kiss, lingering there in the right-hand corner. How lovely if he were to catch it. He focused upon her so starkly that just his stare alone felt like a cage around Wendy. It was all intensely awkward to her, but she would not have to bear it for very long, for almost as soon as her gaze had met his, he shut his eyes halfway and inclined his face to hers. Wendy remained immobile as she suddenly felt his lips gently brush hers. Her eyes too closed partially as an abrupt lightheadedness overtook her at his touch. He bestowed several soft kisses all about her mouth – every corner, ever perfect arc of her lips – waiting patiently for her reaction. He soon had it when he felt her finally purse her own lips against his. She had happily accepted the invitation, and with this admittance, he again moved his hand to the back of her neck and kissed her harder, and once more she heartily responded, clutching tightly to the ruff of his shirt.
He tasted her gleefully, and she did all she could to keep up, as this was all so frightfully new. The tickle in her belly had spread to her entire person at this point, every sweep of her lips against the Captain's sating a thirst within her that she had as yet not known existed. This was certainly not in the least equivalent to the kiss she had shared with Peter Pan. So much more to it there was she could not begin to suppose. The more she responded to him, the hungrier he became, until at last he parted her lips and deftly slipped his tongue betwixt her teeth.
Almost at once, Wendy gasped and pulled away, pressing her fingers to her mouth. She stared up at the captain with such naivety, and Hook's face fell slightly into a disappointed look one might give a pet who had done something naughty. Wendy quickly caught onto her own silliness. Clearly, this was just yet another facet of this fresh experience of which she was so horribly ignorant.
And so, with a sheepish grin, Wendy replaced her hand to the Captain's chest and allowed him to advance on her again. He softened anew and reclaimed her lips, once more opening them and blithely introducing his tongue into her mouth. Wendy keenly followed his lead, countering in kind when he swept his tongue against hers. Before too long, she proved to be a quick study, and she discovered yet another thirst within her that had remained clandestine until now whence it had found the proper tonic with which to quench it.
Hook became impossibly lost in his own ravenous onslaught by now, holding her so tight against him she could barely breathe. At last he came up for air himself, tearing away from her lips to press deep kisses to her cheeks, the sides of her nose, the corners of her eyes, every unspoiled inch of her he could find. Wendy inhaled heavily and drank in every new touch, including the prickly scrape of his beard against her delicate skin.
"Oh Wendy," Hook spoke at last, breathing into her ear. "How I have ached for this so..."
"Have you?" came Wendy's weak reply. It was wholly rhetorical – she recognized now how this moment had been building for some time.
"Intensely," Hook cooed, but his word became entangled and lost within her hair. "Do you not feel it as well?"
Wendy parted her eyelids and stared hazily up into the stars. "I...I do feel something."
"What, my darling?"
"I feel..."
But Wendy's voice trailed off and her eyes closed once more when she felt what could only have been Hook's tongue glide softly up the back of her ear. She gave out a tiny moan and her knees went a trifle limp.
In spite of this, she swallowed and attempted to finish her thought. "I feel...like a thousand tiny fingers are pinching me everywhere all at once."
Hook chortled against her cheek, then he moved away from her entirely and cupped her face in his hand.
"Do you know what those fingers are?" Hook asked with a cunning grin. Wendy shook her head, and Hook took her hand in his, placing soft kisses on each knuckle one at a time. "They are the merry minstrels of womanhood come to serenade you into their elite little society, my dear."
Wendy blanched a bit. Was that truly to what all this portended? Had she, without realizing it at all, given up the reigns of her childhood by kissing the Captain and allowing it to wreak such havoc upon her sentiments as it had?
"You are not a child, Wendy," Hook stated grimly. "I have known this since first I laid eyes upon you on that rock. You can't escape it, my beauty, for it is quite nigh. It threatens to burst from your very flesh at any moment."
My, how frightfully grisly, Wendy thought, and indeed her face expressed this.
"But you needn't come to it alone," Hook said, stroking her cheek. "Take my hand and I can escort you soundly into adulthood's waiting arms, to keep it from snatching you up callously and against your proclivity. Would you let me do this for you, Wendy?"
She began to quake subtly beneath her nightdress. She could not quite penetrate the meaning of his words or how exactly he intended to 'escort her to womanhood', but something about the whole affair made her insides jump about as if a great tempest was at hand. It was frightening and exciting all at once, and Wendy had, after all, come to Neverland to find one last great adventure. So with this in mind, she gave the Captain her acquiescence.
Now 'twas Hook's turn to experience the internal bounding about as Wendy had. But he masked it all with a casual air as he closed his hand around Wendy's and began to lead her gracefully from the bow. The Captain guided the young lady across the ship, holding her hand aloft as if a prince with his princess, and she watched him keenly the entire way, spellbound, as always, by his unremitting chivalry.
When they reached his quarters, Hook gestured Ladies First to Wendy, and she obliged, stepping inside and stopping about halfway into the room to wait for what was to come next. She heard Hook close the door, and in what could only have been a split second following, she felt him behind her and his arms firm about her waist and shoulders. Intuitively she let her head fall back onto his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek to hers.
"Might I join you in the bedchamber this evening, my lady?" he inquired with a husky coyness.
"All right," Wendy replied. What else could she have said, if it was all part of this mysterious process?
'Twas then, as she followed the Captain to the bedchamber, that a notion sprung to Wendy's mind. Suddenly the idea of she and Hook entering the bedroom together brought to her recollection of what such a deed might suggest. Her good upbringing had always taught her that no woman shall ever be escorted into a place of slumber by a man who was not her husband. She had her whole life wondered why this was so, until she had come across several unmarked books in a dimly lit section in the back of the library not but a year or two ago. They were most lurid books, detailing the raunchy adventures of lusty women and of dashing men who rode horses half- unclad, their manes of hair billowing in a luscious ocean breeze as he approached. The hero would always scoop the willing maiden into his arms, kiss her passionately, and take her to his bedroom, wherein they would indulge in the most wicked and delicious exploits, all of which made Wendy's skin turn warm and flushed just to simply read! Such scandalous and bawdy material, and yet she always snuck back to that section of the library when no one was looking to read more. She had wanted to quiz her mother on the goings-on of these books, primarily because she so often saw her mother and father retire to their bedroom together, and Wendy wondered if, beyond the door, they were to partake in the provocative activities akin to the lusty hero and fiery maiden. Though she could scarcely cast her stuffy parents in such romantic roles! And so, the implicit novels and their subject matter remained as yet a tasty puzzle.
Were these the sorts of things Hook meant to do with her as a means to make her a woman? He had already taken her into his arms and kissed her passionately. Were they now to indulge in wicked and bawdy acts within his bed? Wendy's heart began to race at the thought, and she felt her palms become moist with anxiousness. She had never been so gauche as to imagine Captain Hook in such indecent terms. And she most certainly had not imagined herself in them either! But perhaps she was presuming too much. Perhaps the Captain's intentions were wholly honorable. This was Neverland, after all, and what may apply to the Mainland scarcely did so here.
Inside the bedchamber, Hook took Wendy by the shoulders and sat her down at the edge of the bed. Then, he crossed to the door and closed it tightly. In doing so, he left the unlit room in a thick darkness, save for the soft blue glow radiating in from the window, so he strolled to his desk and lit a single candle upon it, lending a rusty hue to the muted ambiance.
Wendy watched his every move, but when he turned from the desk back toward the bed and met her notice, she looked away shyly. He found this amusing and not entirely unexpected. He came back to the bed and sat upon the foot of it, perpendicular to Wendy, and began removing his waistcoat and vest. Wendy stole a glance or two over her shoulder, wondering if there was something she should be doing too whilst he was occupied in his own endeavors.
She saw him lean forward and begin to unbuckle his boots. Or, at least, he tried to. Smee had always been the one to do this for him, but that was hardly practical at this time. Hook discreetly struggled with this for some while, and it was not before long that Wendy caught on to his difficultly, attempting to unbuckle a boot with one hand and a hook. She thought it dreadfully pitiable, and her compassion edged to the surface at once.
Wendy rose from her side of the bed and moved to him, crouching down before his feet and gently brushing aside his hand and claw to gain access to the troublesome buckle herself. But Hook hastily seized her wrist.
"I am not helpless, Wendy," he grumbled severely.
Wendy managed a kind smile. "I know. I just...I'd like to do it for you."
Well, in that case, Hook thought, and he warily released her wrist. He sat back and watched with a degree of ambiguity as she unbuckled both boots with nary an effort and removed them. He figured that would be the end of it, but to his pleasant astonishment, Wendy reached her hands to his knees and swiftly began to unfurl his stockings as well. Her fingers brushed enticingly against his bare leg, and this, mixed with her maddening benevolence, ignited his desire for her anew.
He suddenly lurched forward and pulled her up onto her knees by the shoulder, kissing her fiercely. He opened his legs a bit to allow her closer access to him, her hands resting securely atop his thighs and her compliance to his mouth piqued as ever before.
Hook swung his arms around Wendy's back, holding them straight out, and skillfully unscrewed his claw without a missing a single marvelous sweep of Wendy's lips, letting the cruel iron appendage fall carelessly to the floor.
Now, at some point during this jumble of kissing and caressing, Captain Hook's shirt had been removed. 'Tis hard to say who was the initiator of this with the hodgepodge of heated activity occurring, but nevertheless, his shirt had somehow come off, and neither one of them may have ever been the wiser to it if Wendy's hand had not brushed up against the leather strap across Hook's chest. At this, Wendy flinched and tilted away from him, her eyes wide with shock at her first sight of the ghastly harness which the Captain must always wear to hold his hook in place.
Regrettably, Hook had quite forgotten all about the ugly device, which was rather a feat indeed considering it kept him in a constant state of physical agony every second he wore it. But the discomfort quickly came rushing back to him whence seeing the reaction it elicited from Wendy. He could scarce do anything other than sit motionless and wait for the inevitable moment when Wendy would run shrieking from the room at his handicap. But, so full of lovely surprises Wendy was this night, she remained precisely where she knelt.
Wendy herself had somehow taken for granted Hook's disfigurement. She had rather always supposed Captain Hook as having been BORN with an iron claw, never once considering that he indeed bore a horrible injury. But it was all evident enough to her now as she looked over the horrible harness, and she saw how dreadfully it dug into his skin. Why, 'twas no wonder at all how he could constantly be in a perpetual state of ill-temper when he had to suffer this torturous device day in and day out. Well, neither he nor she would have any more of it this night if she had anything to say about it.
Her fingers came to rest upon the clasp on his right shoulder, but once more, Hook took hold of her wrist, only this time, it was not out of pride but dread. His eyes spoke volumes of the panic at her impending discovery of his defect.
"Please," Wendy pleaded, "I must see it."
Hook's voice trembled though he tried to hide it. "I do so fear your revulsion, Wendy. And your pity."
"You shall have neither, I promise," she vowed.
Hook strived to maintain his dignity as readily as he could, but he found it quite for naught. He hadn't counted on this as part of his scheme for that night. In fact, he had fully intended on keeping his claw attached for the duration, but this had gone askew. No matter now, for the skeleton had been sprung from the cupboard, and if the evening were to progress any further, it was clear he would have to reveal himself fully.
He allowed Wendy to unfasten the strap from his chest, and with a brief wriggling from the sling around his left shoulder and the squeaky release of a lever, the harness fell away from his person and clunked to the ground.
Under glistening eyes, Wendy's jaw hung slightly open as she took her first intimate glimpse at the stump where Captain Hook's right hand should have been. It was ever more hideous than she had expected. The wound did not appear a clean one at all – rather it appeared as if it had been mercilessly sawn through with a blunt implement. Indeed the sight of it sickened Wendy, but 'twas not so much the injury itself which vexed her but rather the harsh realization that Peter Pan – her dear Peter – had been the one to inflict such an atrocity.
Hook became terribly discouraged – though it was hardly surprising – when he saw the tears begin to flow freely from Wendy's eyes, and he prepared himself for her revolted getaway. But again, she did the unexpected by staying put, and furthermore from this, she brought her hand up to the mangled wound and began to caress it with her fingertips. The Captain nearly went faint at this scene. Nobody, but NO one, had ever dared to lay an eye upon his deformity, let alone a finger, and though he sat tight- lipped, the gesture floored him completely. But not even the stoic Captain could remain unmoved for very long when Wendy wrapped her fingers around his deficient arm and brought it tenderly to her cheek. Hook's entire torso slumped, as if it were an anchor having been released from its rigging into the sea, and with it came unavoidable tears of his own.
"Oh Captain," Wendy cried, "I am so sorry."
The corners of Hook's mouth arced slightly upward and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I would think, at this present juncture, that it might be more appropriate...for you to call me James."
Still cradling his mutilation, Wendy smiled through her tears. "James..."
Never had his name resonated more beautifully within his ears than when she uttered it. She was a goddess, an absolute angel of mercy, Hook was certain of it now, and he could nary find the resolve to take advantage of her that night any longer. He drew in a weighty breath.
"Wendy...would you mind terribly," he sighed, "just lying down with me tonight?"
Wendy nodded and sniffled, somewhat relieved that her earlier suspicions of impropriety appeared to be eradicated for good now.
Hook scooted himself back toward the head of the bed, and Wendy came around the side and climbed in from there. He lay on his side facing her, his stump hidden beneath the pillows by his ear, and Wendy settled herself before him, resting her head on his right elbow. Hook slung his other arm around her back, pulling her a tad closer to him, and she placed her hands ever so daintily against his bare chest.
The Captain gazed hard upon Wendy's angelic face. Once more, this rendered her rather sheepish, so she kept her eyes affixed to his chest. He was quite broad and possessed sufficient musculature that one would presume of a man in his station. He practically dwarfed her, and she imagined she could curl up against him and easily be lost in his powerful arms forever. A warmth coursed through her own chest as she thought of this – it was a warmth which could be associated with a person who felt unconditionally safe and secure in their present circumstances. Wendy had never felt so safe. And she quickly realized that the Captain was right about one thing – Peter Pan could never hold her in his arms so prudently as this.
Wendy noticed the large tattoo on Hook's left shoulder. She knew it at once as the crest of the Eton school. How extraordinary, she thought, to discover that he had earned his boyhood education in the very same city in which she lived. In fact, Aunt Millicent had sent Slightly there for his instruction. Wendy stifled a grin as she imagined what Captain Hook might think about one of Peter Pan's Lost Boys trudging the halls of his alma mater.
She aimlessly fingered the outline of Hook's inky crest with her fingertip. (Earlier, she had briefly noticed another tattoo on Hook's right shoulder, but she had as yet not known what it said or depicted.) Gradually, her hand drifted back to his chest, moving with care over whence that dreadful harness had rubbed his skin raw. Hook closed his eyes and sighed quietly at her soothing touch.
In due course did Wendy's fingers tactfully find their way up the Captain's throat, over his bushy chin, to his tidily kept mustache. She traced the shape of it from the small dip betwixt his nose and mouth to the meticulous coils at the ends. She wondered how exactly he managed to get them so perfect. Then her explorations inevitably led her to his mouth itself, and soon she found her fingers upon his lips. Hook pursed them intuitively just a bit against her touch. Wendy would very much have liked to taste them once more, but she was rather wary to assert this desire, for she neither could determine whether the Captain was still willing nor was she entirely sure she wanted to provoke him at all, lest it lead them once more down the ambivalent path of bawdiness. So, she only silently wished it to herself, half hoping he would somehow read her thoughts and take the matter again under his own control.
She must have been giving off far more signs than she realized, for Hook picked up on her anticipation quite keenly. He eked his face nearer to hers, though he had not much distance to cover before he was able to easily reclaim her lips with his. Wendy responded at once, even boldly stroking her tongue across his bottom lip, encouraging him inside her mouth. Hook held her tighter, and in no time at all, his passion was piqued anew.
He searched heartily for her hidden kiss, wanting it more than ever, but still it eluded him. Yet this only further ignited his hunger. He turned her over onto her back and continued his frenzied attack upon her mouth. His entire body was on fire for her, and soon her secret kiss became the least of his lusty aims.
When Hook at last disengaged his mouth from Wendy's, she breathing heavily through moist and inflamed lips, he looked down upon her with an odd grimness in his eyes. He blithely fiddled with the opal he had given to her as it rose up and down atop her chest with her breath. Then his hand moved a touch further down, to the collar of her nightdress. When his hand came to rest here, she stared up at him quizzically. Then, in a flash, his fingers deftly unclasp her top button.
Wendy's eyes darted downward then back up again, her breath picking up a heavier pace. Oh dear, she thought, just like those lurid novels. 'Twas really happening, wasn't it? She saw plainly in Hook's darkened eyes that it was.
Soon her second button became unfastened, and then the third, the fourth, fifth...until they came to an end just above her belly button. Hook now tore his eyes from Wendy's trepidatious face to gaze upon the graceful sliver of exposed flesh beneath his hand. Starting from the bottom, he let his fingertips glide slowly upward like a warm breeze against her skin, coming to rest ultimately at her throat.
"You're trembling," he said with a mild hoarseness.
"Yes." It could nary be denied.
"Are you scared?" he breathed into her neck.
Wendy closed her eyes and wavered. "I don't know."
He smirked slightly. "Don't be." He propped himself halfway onto the elbow of his bad arm. "You are in very good......hand."
He smiled at her warmly, and she smiled back, thankful for the respite of levity. This was just enough a decoy for Hook to pull back the lapels of Wendy's nightdress without her becoming too alarmed. But still she gasped faintly when she realized that suddenly her breasts were completely exposed before him.
Hook found them marvelous at once. Not too large yet not too small, and she, being so young, most likely had more wonderful blossoming ahead of her. Though the Captain could scarcely imagine these two perfect little orbs needing any improvement at all.
He slithered his body downward a few inches, almost as if a snake in reverse, his clever gaze beneath lowered brow still upon Wendy's face until his chin grazed her ribcage. Now he gave his full attention to Wendy's right breast, first sweeping his hand over it, then alighting upon it several greedy kisses. Wendy stopped breathing at once and clenched her fists tightly at her sides, keeping squelched the acute inclination to push him violently away. She gasped audibly when the Captain took her tender flesh gently betwixt his teeth, and she moaned fully when he slid his warm tongue against her hardened nipple, nibbling and suckling gently upon it as Wendy's entire body reeled.
Gradually Hook found his way to the left breast, and he soon discovered he rather preferred this one, as he could explore it with his mouth whilst fondling the other with his good hand. Wendy, I must say, found this quite agreeable as well, entangling her fingers within the Captain's black curls as he tugged coyly upon her pert little protrusion with his teeth.
When the Captain's engagement with Wendy's chest came to a lamentable end, he returned his body in alliance with hers. Her lips were dry from breathlessness when he seized them again, each new time more zealously than the last. Once again, he employed this as a diversion from the roaming activity of his hand, which was finding its way inch by inch down the side of Wendy's body, across her thigh, and beneath the hem of her nightdress. His fingertips crawled back upward against her bare hip, and he quickly became aware that she wore no undergarments. This was a most favorable happenstance.
As Hook kept Wendy preoccupied with their oral endeavors, he shifted his hips over her left leg and carefully pushed her opposite knee outward. His hand quivered subtly as he stroked the inside of her thigh and then let it settle directly upon that vastly coveted destination directly between her legs.
Wendy gasped into his mouth, her hand impulsively clasping against his arm.
"'Tis all right," Hook whispered before further capturing her lips.
But Wendy remained decidedly rigid even when his fingers began to contract against her sensitive flesh. Quite contrary to her predilection, she grew intensely engorged and damp at his touch, as if she no longer had any say in what her body was to find pleasurable. Even her hips began to move on their own, writhing vaguely under the Captain's caresses. Thus when she began to moan softly, even she knew not entirely if it was out of misgiving or gratification.
Hook detected her readiness beneath his hand, a pair of fleshy folds dutifully standing guard around Wendy's womanhood, and with as much informality as he could manage, he let a single finger slip inside this sultry aperture. This time, Wendy's eyes flew open and she cried out, her grip upon Hook's arm strengthening. Her body tightened around his hand at once, and she stared up at the Captain with dreadfully troubled eyes.
Hook hushed her softly, keeping his face close to hers and cradling her neck within his other elbow.
"Just relax, my beauty..."
Wendy could not begin to imagine how she was to do that. She felt rather as if she was being stabbed and tickled at the same time. She could scarcely help but constrict herself in reaction to this utterly alien infiltration of her person. Nonetheless, Hook started to flex his finger within her, impelling it in and out, making small circles, until she finally became conscious and welcoming of the sensations it sent surging all throughout her. And she found, to her incredulity, that indeed if she bade herself lie back, relax, and allow her knee to fall welcomingly open once more, the entire experience was quite intoxicating. With all due credit to Hook, her body had unearthed yet another long dormant hunger only now becoming fulfilled.
The pirate pressed on in his heated ventures between her thighs, watching every nuance of Wendy's face and body react gorgeously to these efforts. How her visage spoke of strained bliss, and her bare, heaving chest glistened under a thin layer of perspiration. Hook had not expected to find so much personal satisfaction in her pleasure, but even so he felt himself grow taut beneath his trousers simply from hearing the sweet sound of her moans meant only for him. He began to work her more vigorously, even pinching the swollen lip of her hollow betwixt his thumb and finger. She gasped sharply and pressed her clammy palm down over his hand, arching her back and gnashing her hips for even more. She began to pant heavily as a great burning sensation accumulated all through her lower half, rushing in like a blazing tidal wave toward the source of its stimulation, and even Hook felt the looming warmth converging upon his digit inside her.
Then suddenly, he tore his hand away, and before Wendy had any chance to protest, he scooped his arms under hers and hoisted her into an upright seated position before him. This sudden movement mixed with Wendy's erotically-induced haze made for a clumsy recipe when trying to maintain a balance upon her knees facing the Captain. He held her waist until she blinkingly regained her bearings, and once she seemed steady enough, Hook gingerly brought his arms about her thighs back to the rumpled hem of her nightdress. Once more, he slipped both his hand and stump beneath the hem and started to lift it over her waist, and almost instantly did Wendy throw her hands down over it and sit back on her heels.
She presumed he would acknowledge her insecurity with another disapproving grimace, but when she finally allowed herself to look into his face, she found nothing more than a cool softness and even the merest hint of a smile.
"You needn't be afraid," Hook reassured her, "to let me see you."
Indeed, it did seem only fair, bearing in mind that he had shared with her his most private affliction – the mutilated right arm – so why should she not allow this man to view her own intimacies? Besides, he had put his hand to nearly every hidden nook of her person, thus it would be rather the considerate thing to do to permit the Captain to see that which he had been touching.
Wendy eased her hands from her dress, setting them aside, and came back upon her knees, wincing slightly at the pressure it put on her bum ankle. Hook commenced his effort straight away before she could change her mind, and within moments, her nightdress had come over her head and released from her upraised arms. Her hair tumbled from the collar like a ruddy rainfall upon her shoulders. With a baited breath, Hook brushed the thick tendrils from her chest and watched her skin instantly turn bright pink. She kept her arms close into her person, but Hook held them gently to the sides so as to absorb the full vision.
Just then, Wendy thought she saw the candle on the writing desk flicker queerly in her peripheral vision. Partly thankful for any sort of diversion from this most awkward circumstance, she shot her head in that direction, but Hook was quick to recapture her attention.
At last the Captain exhaled blissfully. He was not altogether sure if it was due to his not having laid eyes upon a female form in nearly centuries or if indeed Wendy Darling was the most breathtaking creature he'd had the honor of beholding, but not a more stunning sight had he seen since he plundered Emperor Xiandi's gold on the Bay of Bengal. Looking at her now, he needed less assurance as to her complete corporeal maturity. He drank her in languidly, and once he had gotten his proper fill, he sighed again.
"Divinity..." he whispered grandly. And 'twas all his.
At this favorable affirmation, Wendy shyly emerged from her slouch. She had never much been one for vanity, and nobody in her life had ever given her cause for such self-estimations. She thought herself rather plain, really. But to hear a man of such sophistication and discriminating taste liken her in the rawest form to a design of Heaven itself, how could she hence deny him anything at all?
Having Wendy firmly in advantageous spirits, Hook released her arms and came up on his knees as well with a crafty grin.
"Now... 'tis my turn."
Before Wendy could ask, Hook's hand dove into his own lap, and by means of a deftness that was sorely lacking in his efforts with his boots, he swiftly liberated the silver buttons of his trousers. A few simple feats following, and in a flash, his pants were but a crumpled memory upon the bedchamber floor.
The Captain stood proud and straight atop his knees facing Wendy, and the girl's sparkling eyes grew round as saucers when their attention was taken over by the most frightfully peculiar sight she had yet known – a massive extension sprouting from betwixt his legs, aimed directly and dauntingly at her like a rapier. She had seen a similar protuberance on both her brothers, but Heavens, nothing whatsoever as this! It was twice as thick as the candle on the desk and covered with dark, coarse hairs. And Hook seemed awfully proud of it, this awesome symbol of his masculinity.
"It's all for you, Wendy," he proclaimed.
Her eyes darted up to his face. "What?"
He reclaimed her hand in his and brought it near his lap. "Touch it."
Wendy suddenly clenched her hand into a fist and quickly asked: "Why?"
Hook's brow fell. "Well...," he began dubiously, "I touched you, didn't I?"
Wendy recovered in concurrence and blushed slightly. "Oh! Yes...All right..."
Wendy unfurled her fingers and let the Captain place them lightly upon his appendage. She saw his body tremor briefly as if a hot poker had been pressed to his skin. She wondered if she had done something wrong, but she couldn't possibly, as she had scarcely done a thing at all. Carefully puppeteering Wendy's tiny hand within his own, Hook demonstrated how she was to glide it across his full, erected length. It felt almost as funny as it looked, in Wendy's opinion, but there was no mistaking the very serious effect it had upon the Captain.
Hook left Wendy's curious hand to its devices, letting his own fall feebly to her thigh, and he leaned his forehead against her neck with a gruff sound from his throat that one might make whence tasting something magnificent. Wendy continued to warily caress his esteemed manhood as best she could determine to his liking, he aiding in her efforts by gently writhing his hips beneath her fingers as she had done by instinct when he touched her. Wendy noted that he seemed most stimulated the nearer she was to the base of his phallus, so she lengthened and invigorated her strokes, eliciting from the Captain several fierce shudders all through his body. As his fervor grew, so did Wendy's naïve concern.
"Am I hurting you?" she asked anxiously after he had thrown his head back in response to an unexpected squeeze.
"No...no..." he managed through shortened breaths. "That's......you're......It's perfect..."
As he leaned backward and grappled at the bedsheets beneath him, Wendy watched in fascination at the overwhelming effect she was having over this man. The great pirate captain, legendary from sea to sea, the only one whom Barbeque had ever feared, reduced to a quivering heap upon his own bed at the simple touch of her hand. 'Twas then that Wendy finally understood how intoxicating a little accordance of power could be. And as all addicts do, she wanted more. Briskly she clamped her other hand onto him, and with both sets of fingertips, she dragged all ten of them deeply down the length his burning, quake-ridden organ. Hook's teeth grinded and his broad chest heaved toward the ceiling whilst oozing such a din of torturous pleasure from his throat.
Hook recognized the oncoming charge of volcanic fury hastening toward his loins, but in advance of its eruption, he suddenly struck Wendy's hands from his flesh, binding his arms about her waist and pulling her into the most ferocious kiss yet. And before Wendy could figure out what was happening next, the Captain brusquely shoved her onto her back upon the bed.
He sat hovering above the apprehensive girl for a moment, catching his breath. Now Wendy was certain that she had acted amiss, and she kept her arms in defensively at her chest. But after a short time had passed and the Captain had recovered himself, his countenance softened, and thus did Wendy's as well. His eyes washed over her as if a king inspecting his evening's feast. Wendy studied his every intimation, wondering if the rite of passage had been completed, if she was now a woman and he was hence finished with her. Though she had a nagging suspicion that there was indeed more to come that night.
No sooner had she thought this than Hook began to crawl craftily toward her upon his forearms. With his body he was able to wedge himself betwixt her knees and settle his groin against her inner thighs, his short stiff hairs prickling Wendy's sensitive skin. He pressed his body down atop hers, delighting in the feel of her soft young breasts against his chest, and leaned slightly on his bad arm so as not to squash her. He cupped her face in his hand and bade her look deep into his piercing eyes, partly obscured by dark ringlets hanging haphazardly over his forehead.
"Listen to me carefully, Wendy," he began most gravely, "The induction to womanhood will not be a pleasant one at the start. I daresay it may cause you greater ill than these mendings..."
He ran a light finger down the length of her stitches.
"But I pledge to thee," he continued, "that the distress shall pass and henceforth be quite agreeable for you if only you allow it. But I need your absolute trust." He cupped her face once again more sternly. "Do you trust me, Wendy?"
A resonance in his voice hinted to Wendy that whatever was afoot might have as much impact on him as it would on her. She felt his lower body squirm further between her legs, and suddenly a wave of dread came over her. That monolith sprouting from his thighs was pressing portentously right against the damp opening into which his finger had earlier immersed itself. Was he truly expecting to impel that massive thing into her tiny cavity? Surely 'twas not possible! She became vaguely panicked at once, but the earnest expression within the Captain's eyes did a bit to soothe her concerns. After all, he seemed more intuitive of her body than even she herself! And he had thus far done nary a wrong by her, so what justification could she find in refuting him at this stage?
Wendy nodded her avowal of trust, and a soft kiss was pressed to her cheek.
"There's my brave girl," Hook whispered, his heart beginning to pound with anticipation. "Now...hold onto me tightly."
Wendy dutifully obliged, wrapping her arms firm about his neck. Hook adjusted his hips a tad more, aligning his hardened instrument with the precision of an executioner at the guillotine. His one hand went to her thigh and his impaired arm slipped around her waist.
All was uncannily calm and still for a few moments, Hook's primed breath and her own blood streaming through her veins being but the only sounds in Wendy's ears. And then, with a sudden buck up his hips, Hook drove himself hard into her, though only about an inch. The abruptness and violence of the act followed by the sharp pain sent Wendy's entire body under alarm, and her face froze with panic as she gasped. Hook thrust fiercely again, moving merely a bit deeper within. Wendy dug her nails into his shoulders and cried out.
"Don't fight me..." Hook groaned, and he attempted to force himself deeper once more.
Wendy threw her head back and screeched, the agony becoming unbearable. Still, Hook thrust again and again, but making only very gradual progress each time. In his head, Hook himself now began to worry that he might be too large for her – like attempting to squeeze a grapefruit through a lemon – thus re-arousing his shamefaced reservations concerning her youth. Perhaps she really was yet but a child, and he had only convinced himself otherwise so as to justify his lurid longings for her. And now the truth was becoming painfully evident that she was indeed not ready for such harrowing physical relations.
No! Hook shouted to his officious mind. He had come this far and 'twould be wholly humiliating not to follow through. He strained as deep within her as he could, his own body starting to ache with his efforts. And the fact that Wendy had gone so protectively rigid made the task all the more strenuous. He presently had her grasped tight in both his arms, keeping her at bay as she was flailing about desperately. Not a child, not a child, the Captain chanted to himself with every brutal buck of his hips.
At last, he felt himself reach her threshold. Gnashing his teeth, he tried laboriously to break through, but her maidenhead was quite resolute. O childish obstinacies! He'd sooner trounce Peter Pan than smash through these blasted walls of Wendy's virtue...
Ah, Pan...Was he not always the jester come to mock Hook whence he was at his most despairing? That surly boy, Hook saw his face plainly upon Wendy's precious chastity, the ever-present smug grin goading the frazzled Captain.
"You could never claim her from me!" Pan would jeer at him. "You are OLD. And ALONE. And DONE FOR!"
"CURSE YOU, PAN!" Hook almost roared aloud, but he settled for an aggravated grunt instead. Oh, he would show the Boy. He drove his fleshy dagger ever deeper within the girl, clawing its way toward that laughing, juvenile face.
Hook would make short work of him yet – clamping his hand over the squealing girl's mouth, pushing and inching and scraping and scouring – until at last...
AHH!
Peter Pan's cocky visage was superbly obliterated, and Hook threw open the gates to Wendy's womanhood under a tapestry of radiant wails.
The Captain's lower body sank into a sigh, and he leaned upon his elbows, his chest puffed and eyes closed, taking in a delicious, grinning breath through his nose. Though 'twas not a beaming for Wendy's deflowering but for his brilliant defeat over Peter Pan.
"Now, what say you to THAT, Boy?" Hook boasted to Pan in his mind. Nothing at all could mar the sheer delight into which the Captain melted at this moment. Nothing, that is, until he suddenly realized that there was a girl lying beneath him, sobbing miserably.
Wendy could scarcely put together what was happening. She would rather not think about it at all – she only wanted to curl into a ball under the covers and remain there forever. Was this really how it had to be? Is this how a girl became a woman? Could this truly be what went on between men and women behind closed doors? And, oh! had her father done this to her mother?! What a horrendous notion. Right then she despised her father, and she wept openly.
Hook was somewhat awestruck at this scene before him. Wendy's cheek had fallen to the side, her tears puddling against the pillows, and when Hook tried to turn her face back toward him, she resisted indignantly.
"No...," she murmured between sobs. She kept her hands fisted in at her chest, refusing to touch him. He felt her whole body lurching with tears beneath his. And it utterly broke him.
"The worst of it has passed, Wendy, I promise you," he cooed to her, still attempting to gain her full notice. But still, she did not budge. In an effort to appease her, he withdrew from inside her almost entirely, to alleviate any pain or pressure she might still be experiencing. But the tears flowed on, and he was mortified.
Fancy Captain Hook mortified by a crying girl! Why, he had taken countless maidens in his day – some forcefully, others innocents like Wendy – many of whom had been brought to tears as well, so why should Wendy's grievances be so crushing? Hook had no answers for this, nor did he have any solutions for regaining her veneration. All he could think to do was what he ultimately did end up doing – leaning forward and gently kissing away the tears from her eyes.
At his first touch, Wendy blanched a bit, but when she felt his lips softly alighting upon her tear-stained cheeks, she saw her sobs wane. Slowly, she opened her eyes at last and began to turn her face back toward him, and he continued to wash away her hurting with such an astonishing tenderness that almost at once was all the pain forgotten.
As she inclined to him, his lips eventually found their way to hers, and they were a warm spot of fresh air after all the unpleasantness just moments before. Hook pulled back to gaze intently upon her face and make sure she was still with him. Her tears had ebbed completely, and she looked longingly to the erudite older man above her as his blue eyes sparkled through the murkiness of the little room. And just as only he seemed to have a way of doing, he made the whole world around them dissolve and become wholly unimportant. There lay only a Wendy in his eyes.
Strictly monitoring her every expression, he shifted his hips, wriggling his still hardened appendage warily within her. The subtle movement reintroduced Wendy to the sweet sensations brought about when Hook had previously used his finger on her, and she closed her eyes and whimpered. The gates now lay wide open for Captain Hook.
The urge to just take her with as much impassioned force as he had broken her was excruciating, but Hook was well aware the consequences should he displease her any further. And besides that, somehow he would prefer to relish these moments for as long as he could sustain them, lest it be his only chance. Thus when he re-entered her, he did so only a small portion at a time. It stung to be penetrated again, thus Wendy constricted herself out of sheer impulse. But she remembered Hook's previous advice to relax, to just let go and let be. She managed to find the wherewithal to release her hips, and when she did so, how easily then was he able to glide right inside. Hook pressed his hips into her, easing within her moist niche, holding tight for a moment, and then releasing, repeating the process inch by delicious inch, deeper and deeper, until his entire length finally lay warm and enveloped by her divine femininity.
He resumed his elegant thrusts, grinding softly between her ambivalent thighs, and letting his face nuzzle into her neck. He cradled her head in the rook of his good arm, his fingers entwining within her hair, and he breathed his low, contented moans into her ear.
A slight twinge remained as Hook throbbed inside her, but the pain was quickly overruled by an indescribable pleasure, and Wendy spread apart her knees as far as they could go to fully welcome the pirate captain. Her back curved beautifully as she by intuition tightened her hips against his thrusts, pushing up whilst he pushed down, and whimpering softly in response to the sensations that ensued.
A short time anon, they fell into a perfect rhythm with each other. A sweet symphony of tensing and releasing, of delighted sighs urged into the night air, of fingertips and tongues blithely caressing and exploring. With each of the Captain's sumptuous undulations, Wendy moaned and squeezed the crest on his shoulder, so tightly she may very well have wrung the ink straight from his skin.
Together their bodies moved as one like an ocean at low tide, each glorious wave surging then ebbing with a precision only the Moon could comprehend. Wendy could think of nothing but the waves, how her whole body felt of a hot liquid, never more alive and aware of each and every grain of her being. She had no fears, no worries; her ankle no longer ached; and above all else, she did not think of Peter Pan.
Nay, the only inkling found to have crept across Wendy's cloudy mind was a brief pondering of how this was all to conclude. She wanted terribly for it to never end, and she was convinced that there was yet some other summit to be achieved in all this. She knew not what, but if her instincts were correct, she entrusted that the Captain would find it and coax it to the surface.
Indeed, Hook was well aware the final mountain to be scaled this night. He had kept it stifled as long as he could before he recognized that it would not be held back any longer. Gradually, he started to pump harder and more rapidly into Wendy, his grunts becoming louder and more determined. Almost at once, Wendy again felt that sense of everything rushing toward her lower body, as if a thousand fingers dashing to scratch a delectable itch. And the itch intensified the more aggressively Hook thrust. They were two marooned souls frantically scouring a desert for anything to quench their thirst.
Hook raised his head, pushing faster and faster, his teeth gnashed and brow drenched. Wendy's soft cries quickly morphed to frenzied panting as she strived to keep up with the Captain's sudden outburst. He propped himself up on his elbows for more leverage, bucking his groin into her with the ferocity of a wild beast – and truly did he not look as a virile lion with his dark mane of curls spilling about his shoulders and back as he roared to the stars.
The lioness beneath him wrapped her arms about his strong neck, holding him closer and tighter in search of that which would extinguish the agonizing blaze between her legs. The glorious Unknown was imminent, they could both feel it. If only to just rub and push and gyrate more deeply and briskly to lure it to them and ignite their embers.
Suddenly, Wendy's whole body became petrified, her eyes and mouth both round and large, and simultaneously did she see the Captain's face contort and his eyes glow a faint red just before he shut them. And with one last wail to the Heavens, he inclined his whole upper body toward the ceiling, lifting the affixed Wendy with him, and expelled a hot gush all through the girl's belly. Wendy's entire being shuddered, and she threw her head back and cried out, her climax intertwining with his in a dazzling cacophony above them. The Great Fire was both ignited and doused in tandem.
And just then, as if someone had thrown a switch, everything stopped. Wendy slowly brought her head back to neutral and opened her eyes, and Hook did the same. The bedchamber materialized once more around them and fell into a sharp silence, only the echo of his and her staggered and exhausted breaths to imbue the void.
Hook blinked the red from his eyes until they were able to focus clearly on the young maiden bound around his neck. They looked at each other for an extended instant, both searching for an indication of bearing or approval of what they had just done. Had he pleased her? Was she to tell him so?
At last Hook slackened his whole body, resting atop Wendy as previously and withdrawing his spent phallus carefully from inside her. Wendy as good as collapsed onto her back whence finally released from the iron clutches of the Captain's masculinity, and she drew in a deep, richly earned breath. Hook leaned his dampened face to hers, searching for one more affirming kiss. She granted him this willingly, and only then was Hook able to himself respire a few replenishing breaths.
Pressing his cheek against her forehead, he began to turn over onto his right side, keeping Wendy close to him, so that they lay before each other much as they had when they first encroached the bed together. He brushed the wet and matted strands of hair from her face and grinned broadly into her inquisitive eyes.
"Thou art a woman now, Wendy," he proclaimed with a fair degree of pride, embracing her tightly, "And there's no going back."
Indeed, Wendy thought to herself, something deeply profound and irreversible had just occurred in that little room, but the question of her womanhood still loomed about her like a chilly London fog. How could he be so sure when even she was so uncertain of it? Should she not feel different in some way? Alas, all she felt presently was a great fatigue. Between battling mermaids, escaping Indians, and her excursions with Hook that night, Wendy was entirely too depleted to sort out all these things now.
Perhaps the morning's light would shine upon some epiphany, Wendy decided in her mind as she nestled her cheek to the Captain's warm chest, and she would think about it then.
But, oh, not just yet...
!!BIG MEGA-WARNING!!: If any of y'all have been wondering why this fic is rated 'R' (or what this "next great adventure" of Wendy's specifically entails), this is precisely it. In fact, I'm gonna just jump right into an NC-17 rating on this chapter alone. Things get MIGHTILY heavy from here on out, so if you are not of a proper maturity level or are inordinately sensitive to more Adult material, I advise an aversion of the eyes! I am aware I will probably lose a sizable chunk of my 'regular' readers after this, but hopefully most of you will see what I am trying to convey here and stick around nonetheless, for this certainly serves a purpose. Also, this chapter is QUITE long. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...My apologies to Mr. Barrie for what I am about to put his beloved characters through. :-P
So, with that, here's Chapter XIV .....Bring on the deluge!!! ;-)
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XIV. TIME TO GROW UP
Well after daylight had fallen into its repose did the Jolly Roger finally reclaim its captain. He was a man tormented, having spent many futile hours in the forests of Neverland hunting, though for what exactly becoming less and less clear to him.
He must have strolled the perimeter of the whole island twenty times that day. In fact, he had, at more then one point, found himself among the dark thicket of trees directly beneath Peter Pan's long-sought after hideout. Had the Captain the presence of mind to simply look skyward just once, this entire chapter of our story might have turned out wholly different. But such as it is, Hook pressed on, leaving Peter's domain as yet undetected.
For all his heated deliberations that day, Hook had come up with very little of any tangibility. The more he walked, the less justification he could find for his dilemmas. All which stayed him on his endless path around and around Neverland was his impenetrable pride.
How detestable for a man as he to fall to such submission over the whims of a GIRL. If his dogs knew the truth in his heart, they would mutiny at once. He was James Hook, after all – the only man whom Barbeque ever feared, and even Flint himself feared Barbeque!
Aye, but there was the quandary. Was not pride and arrogance the precise vices which had driven Wendy from Peter Pan? Was not his whole grand mission to prove to Wendy how so much more valiant than the Boy was Hook? Perhaps it was not too late. This was the prospect which led the Captain back to his ship.
Hook boarded from the stern and carved a direct path to his cabin, expecting the girl to be awaiting his return. She was not there, however, and Hook grew anxious at once. He dashed from the stateroom calling out her name, but all he found was Smee, shuffling up the steps from the lower deck to attend to his captain.
As the bosun approached, he tossed a thumb toward the bow. Hook's eyes shot in that direction, and indeed he saw the flash of white standing tall against the black night, its back to him.
"She's been there nearly all day," Smee relayed. "Just standin' 'n' watchin'. I suppose somthin' be troublin' 'er."
"Do you suppose, Smee?" Hook muttered flatly, his eyes remaining aft.
Smee fidgeted uncomfortably. Hook took a single step forward before turning to his bosun.
"Get thee below decks," he instructed thoughtfully. "Tell the others to remain there as well for the remainder of the evening."
"What about the watchmen, Cap'n?"
"Give them a bottle of my best rum and the night off."
But Smee remained whence he stood, blinking oddly at Hook.
"Didst thou not hear me, Mr. Smee?" Hook seethed.
"Aye, Cap'n!" came the quick reply, and Smee scurried back down the stairs and into the crew quarters below.
Hook commenced his advance on Wendy almost in slow motion. He grappled for one concrete thought on which to affix, but he could not. He walked as if not quite under his own power. 'Twas not until he had made his way up the steps to the bow and suddenly found himself but a few yards facing the girl that he bade himself stop a moment.
Every notion which had passed through his mind in the jungle that day had brought him to this precise point. Drawn at his feet was an invisible threshold. He could either cross it or turn back at once. Either way, his decision would prove exceptionally crucial. Indulgences were a natural convention for a man of his station. And standing within arm's length of him was the one beautiful thing which he found he no longer wished to obliterate. Now, he wished to wholly possess it, if only for a night, just to expel it from his system once and for all, and by the next sunrise, he would be assuaged of his curse and could hence return to the proper matters at hand. This seemed the only acceptable option. Thus Hook proceeded forward.
Wendy had sensed his presence straight away, but she maintained her poise, preferring to wait on his instigation. She had indeed been standing in that spot for hours, and whence the first couple of them had been devoted to a vigil for Peter, the rest soon dissolved into a vigil for Hook as well. She found her thoughts of the Boy to be too painful to entertain, and in turn, she discovered her own alarming anticipation at finding true solace from the Captain. When she felt him take his first steps toward her, instinctively her mouth twitched with the memory at his rather overzealous attempt at consolation earlier that morning, and the more time she spent with this recollection, the greater her appreciation for it grew. But still there was Peter...
Hook approached slowly so as not to startle her, and she strived to keep her composure, concentrating her gaze upon the tranquil seas beyond. When he was but inches near, he let his body close in around her, moving his face close to her ear. Wendy stayed her ground even as he slipped his arms beneath hers and rested them on the railing.
"Forget him, Wendy," he said softly, his voice like velvet. "He is just a boy."
These words she had been repeating to herself all day long, and to finally hear them aloud somehow lent them more credence. Perhaps it was just the syrupy way in which Hook eased them into her ear that made them seem so much more tolerable. In any case, Wendy heard the words and could scarce but accede to them. Or to Hook.
Wendy drew in a breath, one of both relief and trepidation, and gradually began to turn toward the Captain. He opened up his stance upon the girl to allow her movement but kept his arms vaguely outstretched, silently offering himself for a pillar. With the merest of sad smiles, Wendy fell quietly into his arms, her cheek pressed to his chest. Hook sealed his arms around her but kept his menacing claw at a distance. She melted into him, nearly getting lost in his lavish waistcoat and ruff. At last she let go her breath, and with it seemed to depart a great deal of her cares. Nobody had ever embraced her like this – at least, no man had. Not even her own father. And she found it such a comfort that she nearly began to weep anew.
Hook brazenly let his hand drift from the base of her waist and up her back, beneath her hair, and over the exposed skin around her neck. At this, Wendy's unease returned, but she tried to squelch it. Surely, 'twas nothing more than a gesture of succor on his part. Yet it elicited that odd stirring in her belly which had arisen after their dance in his stateroom. It was so intimate that she instantly felt embarrassed to be experiencing it at such close proximity to the Captain. Would he sense it? And if he did, what awful things would he think of her?
Hook did detect it somewhat, and it caused his heart to start pounding rapidly, which Wendy heard plainly in her ear pressed to his chest. Thus she realized, alarmingly, that he must be feeling the very same strange stirrings! She must be somehow encouraging it, and this gave her great unrest. She felt perhaps that she must break away at once lest she bring about a query to which she could not reply.
When she lifted her head from his chest, Hook had his hand at the back of her neck, and he tried to flex it so that Wendy would look him in the eyes. If only she would look him in the eyes, he could inquire anything of her. But she would not budge, and she began to pick at his ruff with her fingers in a faux act of flippancy, as if removing bits of lint that were really not there. Hook could not help but grin at her girlish apprehension, and it only heightened his desire to catch her gaze.
Removing his fingers from her neck, he now brought them to her chin, gently forcing her face upward. Wendy could scarce deny him any longer, and with a guarded brow she allowed herself to look at him. The Captain looked so bizarrely different to her – though not altogether in a bad way. She saw a grave vulnerability in his typically cold eyes which she could never have imagined he possessed.
Hook saw plainly her secret kiss, lingering there in the right-hand corner. How lovely if he were to catch it. He focused upon her so starkly that just his stare alone felt like a cage around Wendy. It was all intensely awkward to her, but she would not have to bear it for very long, for almost as soon as her gaze had met his, he shut his eyes halfway and inclined his face to hers. Wendy remained immobile as she suddenly felt his lips gently brush hers. Her eyes too closed partially as an abrupt lightheadedness overtook her at his touch. He bestowed several soft kisses all about her mouth – every corner, ever perfect arc of her lips – waiting patiently for her reaction. He soon had it when he felt her finally purse her own lips against his. She had happily accepted the invitation, and with this admittance, he again moved his hand to the back of her neck and kissed her harder, and once more she heartily responded, clutching tightly to the ruff of his shirt.
He tasted her gleefully, and she did all she could to keep up, as this was all so frightfully new. The tickle in her belly had spread to her entire person at this point, every sweep of her lips against the Captain's sating a thirst within her that she had as yet not known existed. This was certainly not in the least equivalent to the kiss she had shared with Peter Pan. So much more to it there was she could not begin to suppose. The more she responded to him, the hungrier he became, until at last he parted her lips and deftly slipped his tongue betwixt her teeth.
Almost at once, Wendy gasped and pulled away, pressing her fingers to her mouth. She stared up at the captain with such naivety, and Hook's face fell slightly into a disappointed look one might give a pet who had done something naughty. Wendy quickly caught onto her own silliness. Clearly, this was just yet another facet of this fresh experience of which she was so horribly ignorant.
And so, with a sheepish grin, Wendy replaced her hand to the Captain's chest and allowed him to advance on her again. He softened anew and reclaimed her lips, once more opening them and blithely introducing his tongue into her mouth. Wendy keenly followed his lead, countering in kind when he swept his tongue against hers. Before too long, she proved to be a quick study, and she discovered yet another thirst within her that had remained clandestine until now whence it had found the proper tonic with which to quench it.
Hook became impossibly lost in his own ravenous onslaught by now, holding her so tight against him she could barely breathe. At last he came up for air himself, tearing away from her lips to press deep kisses to her cheeks, the sides of her nose, the corners of her eyes, every unspoiled inch of her he could find. Wendy inhaled heavily and drank in every new touch, including the prickly scrape of his beard against her delicate skin.
"Oh Wendy," Hook spoke at last, breathing into her ear. "How I have ached for this so..."
"Have you?" came Wendy's weak reply. It was wholly rhetorical – she recognized now how this moment had been building for some time.
"Intensely," Hook cooed, but his word became entangled and lost within her hair. "Do you not feel it as well?"
Wendy parted her eyelids and stared hazily up into the stars. "I...I do feel something."
"What, my darling?"
"I feel..."
But Wendy's voice trailed off and her eyes closed once more when she felt what could only have been Hook's tongue glide softly up the back of her ear. She gave out a tiny moan and her knees went a trifle limp.
In spite of this, she swallowed and attempted to finish her thought. "I feel...like a thousand tiny fingers are pinching me everywhere all at once."
Hook chortled against her cheek, then he moved away from her entirely and cupped her face in his hand.
"Do you know what those fingers are?" Hook asked with a cunning grin. Wendy shook her head, and Hook took her hand in his, placing soft kisses on each knuckle one at a time. "They are the merry minstrels of womanhood come to serenade you into their elite little society, my dear."
Wendy blanched a bit. Was that truly to what all this portended? Had she, without realizing it at all, given up the reigns of her childhood by kissing the Captain and allowing it to wreak such havoc upon her sentiments as it had?
"You are not a child, Wendy," Hook stated grimly. "I have known this since first I laid eyes upon you on that rock. You can't escape it, my beauty, for it is quite nigh. It threatens to burst from your very flesh at any moment."
My, how frightfully grisly, Wendy thought, and indeed her face expressed this.
"But you needn't come to it alone," Hook said, stroking her cheek. "Take my hand and I can escort you soundly into adulthood's waiting arms, to keep it from snatching you up callously and against your proclivity. Would you let me do this for you, Wendy?"
She began to quake subtly beneath her nightdress. She could not quite penetrate the meaning of his words or how exactly he intended to 'escort her to womanhood', but something about the whole affair made her insides jump about as if a great tempest was at hand. It was frightening and exciting all at once, and Wendy had, after all, come to Neverland to find one last great adventure. So with this in mind, she gave the Captain her acquiescence.
Now 'twas Hook's turn to experience the internal bounding about as Wendy had. But he masked it all with a casual air as he closed his hand around Wendy's and began to lead her gracefully from the bow. The Captain guided the young lady across the ship, holding her hand aloft as if a prince with his princess, and she watched him keenly the entire way, spellbound, as always, by his unremitting chivalry.
When they reached his quarters, Hook gestured Ladies First to Wendy, and she obliged, stepping inside and stopping about halfway into the room to wait for what was to come next. She heard Hook close the door, and in what could only have been a split second following, she felt him behind her and his arms firm about her waist and shoulders. Intuitively she let her head fall back onto his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek to hers.
"Might I join you in the bedchamber this evening, my lady?" he inquired with a husky coyness.
"All right," Wendy replied. What else could she have said, if it was all part of this mysterious process?
'Twas then, as she followed the Captain to the bedchamber, that a notion sprung to Wendy's mind. Suddenly the idea of she and Hook entering the bedroom together brought to her recollection of what such a deed might suggest. Her good upbringing had always taught her that no woman shall ever be escorted into a place of slumber by a man who was not her husband. She had her whole life wondered why this was so, until she had come across several unmarked books in a dimly lit section in the back of the library not but a year or two ago. They were most lurid books, detailing the raunchy adventures of lusty women and of dashing men who rode horses half- unclad, their manes of hair billowing in a luscious ocean breeze as he approached. The hero would always scoop the willing maiden into his arms, kiss her passionately, and take her to his bedroom, wherein they would indulge in the most wicked and delicious exploits, all of which made Wendy's skin turn warm and flushed just to simply read! Such scandalous and bawdy material, and yet she always snuck back to that section of the library when no one was looking to read more. She had wanted to quiz her mother on the goings-on of these books, primarily because she so often saw her mother and father retire to their bedroom together, and Wendy wondered if, beyond the door, they were to partake in the provocative activities akin to the lusty hero and fiery maiden. Though she could scarcely cast her stuffy parents in such romantic roles! And so, the implicit novels and their subject matter remained as yet a tasty puzzle.
Were these the sorts of things Hook meant to do with her as a means to make her a woman? He had already taken her into his arms and kissed her passionately. Were they now to indulge in wicked and bawdy acts within his bed? Wendy's heart began to race at the thought, and she felt her palms become moist with anxiousness. She had never been so gauche as to imagine Captain Hook in such indecent terms. And she most certainly had not imagined herself in them either! But perhaps she was presuming too much. Perhaps the Captain's intentions were wholly honorable. This was Neverland, after all, and what may apply to the Mainland scarcely did so here.
Inside the bedchamber, Hook took Wendy by the shoulders and sat her down at the edge of the bed. Then, he crossed to the door and closed it tightly. In doing so, he left the unlit room in a thick darkness, save for the soft blue glow radiating in from the window, so he strolled to his desk and lit a single candle upon it, lending a rusty hue to the muted ambiance.
Wendy watched his every move, but when he turned from the desk back toward the bed and met her notice, she looked away shyly. He found this amusing and not entirely unexpected. He came back to the bed and sat upon the foot of it, perpendicular to Wendy, and began removing his waistcoat and vest. Wendy stole a glance or two over her shoulder, wondering if there was something she should be doing too whilst he was occupied in his own endeavors.
She saw him lean forward and begin to unbuckle his boots. Or, at least, he tried to. Smee had always been the one to do this for him, but that was hardly practical at this time. Hook discreetly struggled with this for some while, and it was not before long that Wendy caught on to his difficultly, attempting to unbuckle a boot with one hand and a hook. She thought it dreadfully pitiable, and her compassion edged to the surface at once.
Wendy rose from her side of the bed and moved to him, crouching down before his feet and gently brushing aside his hand and claw to gain access to the troublesome buckle herself. But Hook hastily seized her wrist.
"I am not helpless, Wendy," he grumbled severely.
Wendy managed a kind smile. "I know. I just...I'd like to do it for you."
Well, in that case, Hook thought, and he warily released her wrist. He sat back and watched with a degree of ambiguity as she unbuckled both boots with nary an effort and removed them. He figured that would be the end of it, but to his pleasant astonishment, Wendy reached her hands to his knees and swiftly began to unfurl his stockings as well. Her fingers brushed enticingly against his bare leg, and this, mixed with her maddening benevolence, ignited his desire for her anew.
He suddenly lurched forward and pulled her up onto her knees by the shoulder, kissing her fiercely. He opened his legs a bit to allow her closer access to him, her hands resting securely atop his thighs and her compliance to his mouth piqued as ever before.
Hook swung his arms around Wendy's back, holding them straight out, and skillfully unscrewed his claw without a missing a single marvelous sweep of Wendy's lips, letting the cruel iron appendage fall carelessly to the floor.
Now, at some point during this jumble of kissing and caressing, Captain Hook's shirt had been removed. 'Tis hard to say who was the initiator of this with the hodgepodge of heated activity occurring, but nevertheless, his shirt had somehow come off, and neither one of them may have ever been the wiser to it if Wendy's hand had not brushed up against the leather strap across Hook's chest. At this, Wendy flinched and tilted away from him, her eyes wide with shock at her first sight of the ghastly harness which the Captain must always wear to hold his hook in place.
Regrettably, Hook had quite forgotten all about the ugly device, which was rather a feat indeed considering it kept him in a constant state of physical agony every second he wore it. But the discomfort quickly came rushing back to him whence seeing the reaction it elicited from Wendy. He could scarce do anything other than sit motionless and wait for the inevitable moment when Wendy would run shrieking from the room at his handicap. But, so full of lovely surprises Wendy was this night, she remained precisely where she knelt.
Wendy herself had somehow taken for granted Hook's disfigurement. She had rather always supposed Captain Hook as having been BORN with an iron claw, never once considering that he indeed bore a horrible injury. But it was all evident enough to her now as she looked over the horrible harness, and she saw how dreadfully it dug into his skin. Why, 'twas no wonder at all how he could constantly be in a perpetual state of ill-temper when he had to suffer this torturous device day in and day out. Well, neither he nor she would have any more of it this night if she had anything to say about it.
Her fingers came to rest upon the clasp on his right shoulder, but once more, Hook took hold of her wrist, only this time, it was not out of pride but dread. His eyes spoke volumes of the panic at her impending discovery of his defect.
"Please," Wendy pleaded, "I must see it."
Hook's voice trembled though he tried to hide it. "I do so fear your revulsion, Wendy. And your pity."
"You shall have neither, I promise," she vowed.
Hook strived to maintain his dignity as readily as he could, but he found it quite for naught. He hadn't counted on this as part of his scheme for that night. In fact, he had fully intended on keeping his claw attached for the duration, but this had gone askew. No matter now, for the skeleton had been sprung from the cupboard, and if the evening were to progress any further, it was clear he would have to reveal himself fully.
He allowed Wendy to unfasten the strap from his chest, and with a brief wriggling from the sling around his left shoulder and the squeaky release of a lever, the harness fell away from his person and clunked to the ground.
Under glistening eyes, Wendy's jaw hung slightly open as she took her first intimate glimpse at the stump where Captain Hook's right hand should have been. It was ever more hideous than she had expected. The wound did not appear a clean one at all – rather it appeared as if it had been mercilessly sawn through with a blunt implement. Indeed the sight of it sickened Wendy, but 'twas not so much the injury itself which vexed her but rather the harsh realization that Peter Pan – her dear Peter – had been the one to inflict such an atrocity.
Hook became terribly discouraged – though it was hardly surprising – when he saw the tears begin to flow freely from Wendy's eyes, and he prepared himself for her revolted getaway. But again, she did the unexpected by staying put, and furthermore from this, she brought her hand up to the mangled wound and began to caress it with her fingertips. The Captain nearly went faint at this scene. Nobody, but NO one, had ever dared to lay an eye upon his deformity, let alone a finger, and though he sat tight- lipped, the gesture floored him completely. But not even the stoic Captain could remain unmoved for very long when Wendy wrapped her fingers around his deficient arm and brought it tenderly to her cheek. Hook's entire torso slumped, as if it were an anchor having been released from its rigging into the sea, and with it came unavoidable tears of his own.
"Oh Captain," Wendy cried, "I am so sorry."
The corners of Hook's mouth arced slightly upward and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I would think, at this present juncture, that it might be more appropriate...for you to call me James."
Still cradling his mutilation, Wendy smiled through her tears. "James..."
Never had his name resonated more beautifully within his ears than when she uttered it. She was a goddess, an absolute angel of mercy, Hook was certain of it now, and he could nary find the resolve to take advantage of her that night any longer. He drew in a weighty breath.
"Wendy...would you mind terribly," he sighed, "just lying down with me tonight?"
Wendy nodded and sniffled, somewhat relieved that her earlier suspicions of impropriety appeared to be eradicated for good now.
Hook scooted himself back toward the head of the bed, and Wendy came around the side and climbed in from there. He lay on his side facing her, his stump hidden beneath the pillows by his ear, and Wendy settled herself before him, resting her head on his right elbow. Hook slung his other arm around her back, pulling her a tad closer to him, and she placed her hands ever so daintily against his bare chest.
The Captain gazed hard upon Wendy's angelic face. Once more, this rendered her rather sheepish, so she kept her eyes affixed to his chest. He was quite broad and possessed sufficient musculature that one would presume of a man in his station. He practically dwarfed her, and she imagined she could curl up against him and easily be lost in his powerful arms forever. A warmth coursed through her own chest as she thought of this – it was a warmth which could be associated with a person who felt unconditionally safe and secure in their present circumstances. Wendy had never felt so safe. And she quickly realized that the Captain was right about one thing – Peter Pan could never hold her in his arms so prudently as this.
Wendy noticed the large tattoo on Hook's left shoulder. She knew it at once as the crest of the Eton school. How extraordinary, she thought, to discover that he had earned his boyhood education in the very same city in which she lived. In fact, Aunt Millicent had sent Slightly there for his instruction. Wendy stifled a grin as she imagined what Captain Hook might think about one of Peter Pan's Lost Boys trudging the halls of his alma mater.
She aimlessly fingered the outline of Hook's inky crest with her fingertip. (Earlier, she had briefly noticed another tattoo on Hook's right shoulder, but she had as yet not known what it said or depicted.) Gradually, her hand drifted back to his chest, moving with care over whence that dreadful harness had rubbed his skin raw. Hook closed his eyes and sighed quietly at her soothing touch.
In due course did Wendy's fingers tactfully find their way up the Captain's throat, over his bushy chin, to his tidily kept mustache. She traced the shape of it from the small dip betwixt his nose and mouth to the meticulous coils at the ends. She wondered how exactly he managed to get them so perfect. Then her explorations inevitably led her to his mouth itself, and soon she found her fingers upon his lips. Hook pursed them intuitively just a bit against her touch. Wendy would very much have liked to taste them once more, but she was rather wary to assert this desire, for she neither could determine whether the Captain was still willing nor was she entirely sure she wanted to provoke him at all, lest it lead them once more down the ambivalent path of bawdiness. So, she only silently wished it to herself, half hoping he would somehow read her thoughts and take the matter again under his own control.
She must have been giving off far more signs than she realized, for Hook picked up on her anticipation quite keenly. He eked his face nearer to hers, though he had not much distance to cover before he was able to easily reclaim her lips with his. Wendy responded at once, even boldly stroking her tongue across his bottom lip, encouraging him inside her mouth. Hook held her tighter, and in no time at all, his passion was piqued anew.
He searched heartily for her hidden kiss, wanting it more than ever, but still it eluded him. Yet this only further ignited his hunger. He turned her over onto her back and continued his frenzied attack upon her mouth. His entire body was on fire for her, and soon her secret kiss became the least of his lusty aims.
When Hook at last disengaged his mouth from Wendy's, she breathing heavily through moist and inflamed lips, he looked down upon her with an odd grimness in his eyes. He blithely fiddled with the opal he had given to her as it rose up and down atop her chest with her breath. Then his hand moved a touch further down, to the collar of her nightdress. When his hand came to rest here, she stared up at him quizzically. Then, in a flash, his fingers deftly unclasp her top button.
Wendy's eyes darted downward then back up again, her breath picking up a heavier pace. Oh dear, she thought, just like those lurid novels. 'Twas really happening, wasn't it? She saw plainly in Hook's darkened eyes that it was.
Soon her second button became unfastened, and then the third, the fourth, fifth...until they came to an end just above her belly button. Hook now tore his eyes from Wendy's trepidatious face to gaze upon the graceful sliver of exposed flesh beneath his hand. Starting from the bottom, he let his fingertips glide slowly upward like a warm breeze against her skin, coming to rest ultimately at her throat.
"You're trembling," he said with a mild hoarseness.
"Yes." It could nary be denied.
"Are you scared?" he breathed into her neck.
Wendy closed her eyes and wavered. "I don't know."
He smirked slightly. "Don't be." He propped himself halfway onto the elbow of his bad arm. "You are in very good......hand."
He smiled at her warmly, and she smiled back, thankful for the respite of levity. This was just enough a decoy for Hook to pull back the lapels of Wendy's nightdress without her becoming too alarmed. But still she gasped faintly when she realized that suddenly her breasts were completely exposed before him.
Hook found them marvelous at once. Not too large yet not too small, and she, being so young, most likely had more wonderful blossoming ahead of her. Though the Captain could scarcely imagine these two perfect little orbs needing any improvement at all.
He slithered his body downward a few inches, almost as if a snake in reverse, his clever gaze beneath lowered brow still upon Wendy's face until his chin grazed her ribcage. Now he gave his full attention to Wendy's right breast, first sweeping his hand over it, then alighting upon it several greedy kisses. Wendy stopped breathing at once and clenched her fists tightly at her sides, keeping squelched the acute inclination to push him violently away. She gasped audibly when the Captain took her tender flesh gently betwixt his teeth, and she moaned fully when he slid his warm tongue against her hardened nipple, nibbling and suckling gently upon it as Wendy's entire body reeled.
Gradually Hook found his way to the left breast, and he soon discovered he rather preferred this one, as he could explore it with his mouth whilst fondling the other with his good hand. Wendy, I must say, found this quite agreeable as well, entangling her fingers within the Captain's black curls as he tugged coyly upon her pert little protrusion with his teeth.
When the Captain's engagement with Wendy's chest came to a lamentable end, he returned his body in alliance with hers. Her lips were dry from breathlessness when he seized them again, each new time more zealously than the last. Once again, he employed this as a diversion from the roaming activity of his hand, which was finding its way inch by inch down the side of Wendy's body, across her thigh, and beneath the hem of her nightdress. His fingertips crawled back upward against her bare hip, and he quickly became aware that she wore no undergarments. This was a most favorable happenstance.
As Hook kept Wendy preoccupied with their oral endeavors, he shifted his hips over her left leg and carefully pushed her opposite knee outward. His hand quivered subtly as he stroked the inside of her thigh and then let it settle directly upon that vastly coveted destination directly between her legs.
Wendy gasped into his mouth, her hand impulsively clasping against his arm.
"'Tis all right," Hook whispered before further capturing her lips.
But Wendy remained decidedly rigid even when his fingers began to contract against her sensitive flesh. Quite contrary to her predilection, she grew intensely engorged and damp at his touch, as if she no longer had any say in what her body was to find pleasurable. Even her hips began to move on their own, writhing vaguely under the Captain's caresses. Thus when she began to moan softly, even she knew not entirely if it was out of misgiving or gratification.
Hook detected her readiness beneath his hand, a pair of fleshy folds dutifully standing guard around Wendy's womanhood, and with as much informality as he could manage, he let a single finger slip inside this sultry aperture. This time, Wendy's eyes flew open and she cried out, her grip upon Hook's arm strengthening. Her body tightened around his hand at once, and she stared up at the Captain with dreadfully troubled eyes.
Hook hushed her softly, keeping his face close to hers and cradling her neck within his other elbow.
"Just relax, my beauty..."
Wendy could not begin to imagine how she was to do that. She felt rather as if she was being stabbed and tickled at the same time. She could scarcely help but constrict herself in reaction to this utterly alien infiltration of her person. Nonetheless, Hook started to flex his finger within her, impelling it in and out, making small circles, until she finally became conscious and welcoming of the sensations it sent surging all throughout her. And she found, to her incredulity, that indeed if she bade herself lie back, relax, and allow her knee to fall welcomingly open once more, the entire experience was quite intoxicating. With all due credit to Hook, her body had unearthed yet another long dormant hunger only now becoming fulfilled.
The pirate pressed on in his heated ventures between her thighs, watching every nuance of Wendy's face and body react gorgeously to these efforts. How her visage spoke of strained bliss, and her bare, heaving chest glistened under a thin layer of perspiration. Hook had not expected to find so much personal satisfaction in her pleasure, but even so he felt himself grow taut beneath his trousers simply from hearing the sweet sound of her moans meant only for him. He began to work her more vigorously, even pinching the swollen lip of her hollow betwixt his thumb and finger. She gasped sharply and pressed her clammy palm down over his hand, arching her back and gnashing her hips for even more. She began to pant heavily as a great burning sensation accumulated all through her lower half, rushing in like a blazing tidal wave toward the source of its stimulation, and even Hook felt the looming warmth converging upon his digit inside her.
Then suddenly, he tore his hand away, and before Wendy had any chance to protest, he scooped his arms under hers and hoisted her into an upright seated position before him. This sudden movement mixed with Wendy's erotically-induced haze made for a clumsy recipe when trying to maintain a balance upon her knees facing the Captain. He held her waist until she blinkingly regained her bearings, and once she seemed steady enough, Hook gingerly brought his arms about her thighs back to the rumpled hem of her nightdress. Once more, he slipped both his hand and stump beneath the hem and started to lift it over her waist, and almost instantly did Wendy throw her hands down over it and sit back on her heels.
She presumed he would acknowledge her insecurity with another disapproving grimace, but when she finally allowed herself to look into his face, she found nothing more than a cool softness and even the merest hint of a smile.
"You needn't be afraid," Hook reassured her, "to let me see you."
Indeed, it did seem only fair, bearing in mind that he had shared with her his most private affliction – the mutilated right arm – so why should she not allow this man to view her own intimacies? Besides, he had put his hand to nearly every hidden nook of her person, thus it would be rather the considerate thing to do to permit the Captain to see that which he had been touching.
Wendy eased her hands from her dress, setting them aside, and came back upon her knees, wincing slightly at the pressure it put on her bum ankle. Hook commenced his effort straight away before she could change her mind, and within moments, her nightdress had come over her head and released from her upraised arms. Her hair tumbled from the collar like a ruddy rainfall upon her shoulders. With a baited breath, Hook brushed the thick tendrils from her chest and watched her skin instantly turn bright pink. She kept her arms close into her person, but Hook held them gently to the sides so as to absorb the full vision.
Just then, Wendy thought she saw the candle on the writing desk flicker queerly in her peripheral vision. Partly thankful for any sort of diversion from this most awkward circumstance, she shot her head in that direction, but Hook was quick to recapture her attention.
At last the Captain exhaled blissfully. He was not altogether sure if it was due to his not having laid eyes upon a female form in nearly centuries or if indeed Wendy Darling was the most breathtaking creature he'd had the honor of beholding, but not a more stunning sight had he seen since he plundered Emperor Xiandi's gold on the Bay of Bengal. Looking at her now, he needed less assurance as to her complete corporeal maturity. He drank her in languidly, and once he had gotten his proper fill, he sighed again.
"Divinity..." he whispered grandly. And 'twas all his.
At this favorable affirmation, Wendy shyly emerged from her slouch. She had never much been one for vanity, and nobody in her life had ever given her cause for such self-estimations. She thought herself rather plain, really. But to hear a man of such sophistication and discriminating taste liken her in the rawest form to a design of Heaven itself, how could she hence deny him anything at all?
Having Wendy firmly in advantageous spirits, Hook released her arms and came up on his knees as well with a crafty grin.
"Now... 'tis my turn."
Before Wendy could ask, Hook's hand dove into his own lap, and by means of a deftness that was sorely lacking in his efforts with his boots, he swiftly liberated the silver buttons of his trousers. A few simple feats following, and in a flash, his pants were but a crumpled memory upon the bedchamber floor.
The Captain stood proud and straight atop his knees facing Wendy, and the girl's sparkling eyes grew round as saucers when their attention was taken over by the most frightfully peculiar sight she had yet known – a massive extension sprouting from betwixt his legs, aimed directly and dauntingly at her like a rapier. She had seen a similar protuberance on both her brothers, but Heavens, nothing whatsoever as this! It was twice as thick as the candle on the desk and covered with dark, coarse hairs. And Hook seemed awfully proud of it, this awesome symbol of his masculinity.
"It's all for you, Wendy," he proclaimed.
Her eyes darted up to his face. "What?"
He reclaimed her hand in his and brought it near his lap. "Touch it."
Wendy suddenly clenched her hand into a fist and quickly asked: "Why?"
Hook's brow fell. "Well...," he began dubiously, "I touched you, didn't I?"
Wendy recovered in concurrence and blushed slightly. "Oh! Yes...All right..."
Wendy unfurled her fingers and let the Captain place them lightly upon his appendage. She saw his body tremor briefly as if a hot poker had been pressed to his skin. She wondered if she had done something wrong, but she couldn't possibly, as she had scarcely done a thing at all. Carefully puppeteering Wendy's tiny hand within his own, Hook demonstrated how she was to glide it across his full, erected length. It felt almost as funny as it looked, in Wendy's opinion, but there was no mistaking the very serious effect it had upon the Captain.
Hook left Wendy's curious hand to its devices, letting his own fall feebly to her thigh, and he leaned his forehead against her neck with a gruff sound from his throat that one might make whence tasting something magnificent. Wendy continued to warily caress his esteemed manhood as best she could determine to his liking, he aiding in her efforts by gently writhing his hips beneath her fingers as she had done by instinct when he touched her. Wendy noted that he seemed most stimulated the nearer she was to the base of his phallus, so she lengthened and invigorated her strokes, eliciting from the Captain several fierce shudders all through his body. As his fervor grew, so did Wendy's naïve concern.
"Am I hurting you?" she asked anxiously after he had thrown his head back in response to an unexpected squeeze.
"No...no..." he managed through shortened breaths. "That's......you're......It's perfect..."
As he leaned backward and grappled at the bedsheets beneath him, Wendy watched in fascination at the overwhelming effect she was having over this man. The great pirate captain, legendary from sea to sea, the only one whom Barbeque had ever feared, reduced to a quivering heap upon his own bed at the simple touch of her hand. 'Twas then that Wendy finally understood how intoxicating a little accordance of power could be. And as all addicts do, she wanted more. Briskly she clamped her other hand onto him, and with both sets of fingertips, she dragged all ten of them deeply down the length his burning, quake-ridden organ. Hook's teeth grinded and his broad chest heaved toward the ceiling whilst oozing such a din of torturous pleasure from his throat.
Hook recognized the oncoming charge of volcanic fury hastening toward his loins, but in advance of its eruption, he suddenly struck Wendy's hands from his flesh, binding his arms about her waist and pulling her into the most ferocious kiss yet. And before Wendy could figure out what was happening next, the Captain brusquely shoved her onto her back upon the bed.
He sat hovering above the apprehensive girl for a moment, catching his breath. Now Wendy was certain that she had acted amiss, and she kept her arms in defensively at her chest. But after a short time had passed and the Captain had recovered himself, his countenance softened, and thus did Wendy's as well. His eyes washed over her as if a king inspecting his evening's feast. Wendy studied his every intimation, wondering if the rite of passage had been completed, if she was now a woman and he was hence finished with her. Though she had a nagging suspicion that there was indeed more to come that night.
No sooner had she thought this than Hook began to crawl craftily toward her upon his forearms. With his body he was able to wedge himself betwixt her knees and settle his groin against her inner thighs, his short stiff hairs prickling Wendy's sensitive skin. He pressed his body down atop hers, delighting in the feel of her soft young breasts against his chest, and leaned slightly on his bad arm so as not to squash her. He cupped her face in his hand and bade her look deep into his piercing eyes, partly obscured by dark ringlets hanging haphazardly over his forehead.
"Listen to me carefully, Wendy," he began most gravely, "The induction to womanhood will not be a pleasant one at the start. I daresay it may cause you greater ill than these mendings..."
He ran a light finger down the length of her stitches.
"But I pledge to thee," he continued, "that the distress shall pass and henceforth be quite agreeable for you if only you allow it. But I need your absolute trust." He cupped her face once again more sternly. "Do you trust me, Wendy?"
A resonance in his voice hinted to Wendy that whatever was afoot might have as much impact on him as it would on her. She felt his lower body squirm further between her legs, and suddenly a wave of dread came over her. That monolith sprouting from his thighs was pressing portentously right against the damp opening into which his finger had earlier immersed itself. Was he truly expecting to impel that massive thing into her tiny cavity? Surely 'twas not possible! She became vaguely panicked at once, but the earnest expression within the Captain's eyes did a bit to soothe her concerns. After all, he seemed more intuitive of her body than even she herself! And he had thus far done nary a wrong by her, so what justification could she find in refuting him at this stage?
Wendy nodded her avowal of trust, and a soft kiss was pressed to her cheek.
"There's my brave girl," Hook whispered, his heart beginning to pound with anticipation. "Now...hold onto me tightly."
Wendy dutifully obliged, wrapping her arms firm about his neck. Hook adjusted his hips a tad more, aligning his hardened instrument with the precision of an executioner at the guillotine. His one hand went to her thigh and his impaired arm slipped around her waist.
All was uncannily calm and still for a few moments, Hook's primed breath and her own blood streaming through her veins being but the only sounds in Wendy's ears. And then, with a sudden buck up his hips, Hook drove himself hard into her, though only about an inch. The abruptness and violence of the act followed by the sharp pain sent Wendy's entire body under alarm, and her face froze with panic as she gasped. Hook thrust fiercely again, moving merely a bit deeper within. Wendy dug her nails into his shoulders and cried out.
"Don't fight me..." Hook groaned, and he attempted to force himself deeper once more.
Wendy threw her head back and screeched, the agony becoming unbearable. Still, Hook thrust again and again, but making only very gradual progress each time. In his head, Hook himself now began to worry that he might be too large for her – like attempting to squeeze a grapefruit through a lemon – thus re-arousing his shamefaced reservations concerning her youth. Perhaps she really was yet but a child, and he had only convinced himself otherwise so as to justify his lurid longings for her. And now the truth was becoming painfully evident that she was indeed not ready for such harrowing physical relations.
No! Hook shouted to his officious mind. He had come this far and 'twould be wholly humiliating not to follow through. He strained as deep within her as he could, his own body starting to ache with his efforts. And the fact that Wendy had gone so protectively rigid made the task all the more strenuous. He presently had her grasped tight in both his arms, keeping her at bay as she was flailing about desperately. Not a child, not a child, the Captain chanted to himself with every brutal buck of his hips.
At last, he felt himself reach her threshold. Gnashing his teeth, he tried laboriously to break through, but her maidenhead was quite resolute. O childish obstinacies! He'd sooner trounce Peter Pan than smash through these blasted walls of Wendy's virtue...
Ah, Pan...Was he not always the jester come to mock Hook whence he was at his most despairing? That surly boy, Hook saw his face plainly upon Wendy's precious chastity, the ever-present smug grin goading the frazzled Captain.
"You could never claim her from me!" Pan would jeer at him. "You are OLD. And ALONE. And DONE FOR!"
"CURSE YOU, PAN!" Hook almost roared aloud, but he settled for an aggravated grunt instead. Oh, he would show the Boy. He drove his fleshy dagger ever deeper within the girl, clawing its way toward that laughing, juvenile face.
Hook would make short work of him yet – clamping his hand over the squealing girl's mouth, pushing and inching and scraping and scouring – until at last...
AHH!
Peter Pan's cocky visage was superbly obliterated, and Hook threw open the gates to Wendy's womanhood under a tapestry of radiant wails.
The Captain's lower body sank into a sigh, and he leaned upon his elbows, his chest puffed and eyes closed, taking in a delicious, grinning breath through his nose. Though 'twas not a beaming for Wendy's deflowering but for his brilliant defeat over Peter Pan.
"Now, what say you to THAT, Boy?" Hook boasted to Pan in his mind. Nothing at all could mar the sheer delight into which the Captain melted at this moment. Nothing, that is, until he suddenly realized that there was a girl lying beneath him, sobbing miserably.
Wendy could scarcely put together what was happening. She would rather not think about it at all – she only wanted to curl into a ball under the covers and remain there forever. Was this really how it had to be? Is this how a girl became a woman? Could this truly be what went on between men and women behind closed doors? And, oh! had her father done this to her mother?! What a horrendous notion. Right then she despised her father, and she wept openly.
Hook was somewhat awestruck at this scene before him. Wendy's cheek had fallen to the side, her tears puddling against the pillows, and when Hook tried to turn her face back toward him, she resisted indignantly.
"No...," she murmured between sobs. She kept her hands fisted in at her chest, refusing to touch him. He felt her whole body lurching with tears beneath his. And it utterly broke him.
"The worst of it has passed, Wendy, I promise you," he cooed to her, still attempting to gain her full notice. But still, she did not budge. In an effort to appease her, he withdrew from inside her almost entirely, to alleviate any pain or pressure she might still be experiencing. But the tears flowed on, and he was mortified.
Fancy Captain Hook mortified by a crying girl! Why, he had taken countless maidens in his day – some forcefully, others innocents like Wendy – many of whom had been brought to tears as well, so why should Wendy's grievances be so crushing? Hook had no answers for this, nor did he have any solutions for regaining her veneration. All he could think to do was what he ultimately did end up doing – leaning forward and gently kissing away the tears from her eyes.
At his first touch, Wendy blanched a bit, but when she felt his lips softly alighting upon her tear-stained cheeks, she saw her sobs wane. Slowly, she opened her eyes at last and began to turn her face back toward him, and he continued to wash away her hurting with such an astonishing tenderness that almost at once was all the pain forgotten.
As she inclined to him, his lips eventually found their way to hers, and they were a warm spot of fresh air after all the unpleasantness just moments before. Hook pulled back to gaze intently upon her face and make sure she was still with him. Her tears had ebbed completely, and she looked longingly to the erudite older man above her as his blue eyes sparkled through the murkiness of the little room. And just as only he seemed to have a way of doing, he made the whole world around them dissolve and become wholly unimportant. There lay only a Wendy in his eyes.
Strictly monitoring her every expression, he shifted his hips, wriggling his still hardened appendage warily within her. The subtle movement reintroduced Wendy to the sweet sensations brought about when Hook had previously used his finger on her, and she closed her eyes and whimpered. The gates now lay wide open for Captain Hook.
The urge to just take her with as much impassioned force as he had broken her was excruciating, but Hook was well aware the consequences should he displease her any further. And besides that, somehow he would prefer to relish these moments for as long as he could sustain them, lest it be his only chance. Thus when he re-entered her, he did so only a small portion at a time. It stung to be penetrated again, thus Wendy constricted herself out of sheer impulse. But she remembered Hook's previous advice to relax, to just let go and let be. She managed to find the wherewithal to release her hips, and when she did so, how easily then was he able to glide right inside. Hook pressed his hips into her, easing within her moist niche, holding tight for a moment, and then releasing, repeating the process inch by delicious inch, deeper and deeper, until his entire length finally lay warm and enveloped by her divine femininity.
He resumed his elegant thrusts, grinding softly between her ambivalent thighs, and letting his face nuzzle into her neck. He cradled her head in the rook of his good arm, his fingers entwining within her hair, and he breathed his low, contented moans into her ear.
A slight twinge remained as Hook throbbed inside her, but the pain was quickly overruled by an indescribable pleasure, and Wendy spread apart her knees as far as they could go to fully welcome the pirate captain. Her back curved beautifully as she by intuition tightened her hips against his thrusts, pushing up whilst he pushed down, and whimpering softly in response to the sensations that ensued.
A short time anon, they fell into a perfect rhythm with each other. A sweet symphony of tensing and releasing, of delighted sighs urged into the night air, of fingertips and tongues blithely caressing and exploring. With each of the Captain's sumptuous undulations, Wendy moaned and squeezed the crest on his shoulder, so tightly she may very well have wrung the ink straight from his skin.
Together their bodies moved as one like an ocean at low tide, each glorious wave surging then ebbing with a precision only the Moon could comprehend. Wendy could think of nothing but the waves, how her whole body felt of a hot liquid, never more alive and aware of each and every grain of her being. She had no fears, no worries; her ankle no longer ached; and above all else, she did not think of Peter Pan.
Nay, the only inkling found to have crept across Wendy's cloudy mind was a brief pondering of how this was all to conclude. She wanted terribly for it to never end, and she was convinced that there was yet some other summit to be achieved in all this. She knew not what, but if her instincts were correct, she entrusted that the Captain would find it and coax it to the surface.
Indeed, Hook was well aware the final mountain to be scaled this night. He had kept it stifled as long as he could before he recognized that it would not be held back any longer. Gradually, he started to pump harder and more rapidly into Wendy, his grunts becoming louder and more determined. Almost at once, Wendy again felt that sense of everything rushing toward her lower body, as if a thousand fingers dashing to scratch a delectable itch. And the itch intensified the more aggressively Hook thrust. They were two marooned souls frantically scouring a desert for anything to quench their thirst.
Hook raised his head, pushing faster and faster, his teeth gnashed and brow drenched. Wendy's soft cries quickly morphed to frenzied panting as she strived to keep up with the Captain's sudden outburst. He propped himself up on his elbows for more leverage, bucking his groin into her with the ferocity of a wild beast – and truly did he not look as a virile lion with his dark mane of curls spilling about his shoulders and back as he roared to the stars.
The lioness beneath him wrapped her arms about his strong neck, holding him closer and tighter in search of that which would extinguish the agonizing blaze between her legs. The glorious Unknown was imminent, they could both feel it. If only to just rub and push and gyrate more deeply and briskly to lure it to them and ignite their embers.
Suddenly, Wendy's whole body became petrified, her eyes and mouth both round and large, and simultaneously did she see the Captain's face contort and his eyes glow a faint red just before he shut them. And with one last wail to the Heavens, he inclined his whole upper body toward the ceiling, lifting the affixed Wendy with him, and expelled a hot gush all through the girl's belly. Wendy's entire being shuddered, and she threw her head back and cried out, her climax intertwining with his in a dazzling cacophony above them. The Great Fire was both ignited and doused in tandem.
And just then, as if someone had thrown a switch, everything stopped. Wendy slowly brought her head back to neutral and opened her eyes, and Hook did the same. The bedchamber materialized once more around them and fell into a sharp silence, only the echo of his and her staggered and exhausted breaths to imbue the void.
Hook blinked the red from his eyes until they were able to focus clearly on the young maiden bound around his neck. They looked at each other for an extended instant, both searching for an indication of bearing or approval of what they had just done. Had he pleased her? Was she to tell him so?
At last Hook slackened his whole body, resting atop Wendy as previously and withdrawing his spent phallus carefully from inside her. Wendy as good as collapsed onto her back whence finally released from the iron clutches of the Captain's masculinity, and she drew in a deep, richly earned breath. Hook leaned his dampened face to hers, searching for one more affirming kiss. She granted him this willingly, and only then was Hook able to himself respire a few replenishing breaths.
Pressing his cheek against her forehead, he began to turn over onto his right side, keeping Wendy close to him, so that they lay before each other much as they had when they first encroached the bed together. He brushed the wet and matted strands of hair from her face and grinned broadly into her inquisitive eyes.
"Thou art a woman now, Wendy," he proclaimed with a fair degree of pride, embracing her tightly, "And there's no going back."
Indeed, Wendy thought to herself, something deeply profound and irreversible had just occurred in that little room, but the question of her womanhood still loomed about her like a chilly London fog. How could he be so sure when even she was so uncertain of it? Should she not feel different in some way? Alas, all she felt presently was a great fatigue. Between battling mermaids, escaping Indians, and her excursions with Hook that night, Wendy was entirely too depleted to sort out all these things now.
Perhaps the morning's light would shine upon some epiphany, Wendy decided in her mind as she nestled her cheek to the Captain's warm chest, and she would think about it then.
But, oh, not just yet...