Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that are not of my own imagination
Chapter 2 – First Bad Impressions
The black slowly began to disappear in the kidnapped woman's eyes. It took her eyes a while to adjust to her surroundings. Much to her relief, she did not feel the suffocating feeling of the handkerchief around her mouth or the tightness of the ropes around her hands and legs. With a start, she jerked up suddenly as if she had just awoken from a nightmare. Only, this nightmare was real for she felt it when she tried to use her hands to support her. Instantly, they gave away and she felt back down on the huge pillow that supported her head.
Bringing the two hands close to her face, she examined them. They felt cold as if someone used ice to make the swelling go down. One could plainly see the purple, yellow, and blue bruises that were visible around her knuckles and wrists. If she tried to move them a bit, it would only cause her pain so she stopped trying after awhile.
Her head jerked to the door to the side of her. Someone was unlocking the door. The woman tensed up wondering what kind of torture she was going to endure next. All of a sudden the door swung open and a short old white bearded man walked through the door, whistling a merry tune with a tray in his hands. He stopped at once when he noticed that the woman was finally awake. With a smile, he walked over to her and set the tray on the woman's lap. "Eat up, ma'lady. I was told when ye awoke that ye should be fed." He took the lid off the dish.
Instantly, the smell of cooked meat and vegetables filled her nostrils. At that moment, she wanted to dig into it. She began to reach for the fork and knife on the tray but stopped. What if they poisoned it? As if reading her mind, the old man stated, "It is not poisoned if tha is what ye are thinkin. Ye would be no good to us dead." He sounded very honest so the woman decided to trust him. She still was a little hesitant on eating the food but still did so. She ate rather slowly since it was hard to eat with her injured hands.
When she was finished, the old man took the tray from the woman's lap and began to head to the door. As he opened it, he turned around. "The Captain will be here soon. I warn ye that 'e will be a bit testy since he wants ter get back home to familiar waters." With that he closed the doors to the cabin. The woman did not miss the loud locking of the door.
Instantly, she swung her legs out of the very comfy and warm bed. Hopefully, she would find something in here that would help her escape. A shiver ran up her body. To bed, she wore only some black pajama shorts and a flimsy black tank top. The top of her red lacy bra could be seen since the tank top hung a bit low. She began to search around for a gun or something sharp to use to fight her way out. Every so often, she would rock with the unstable ship. It was surprising that she was not sea sick. She had never been on a boat or a ship before so she could not test if she was.
Her eyes landed to the sea captain's desk that looked as if it was bolted to the ground. Not much was on the top of it to prevent it from falling off. Bending down, she began to search through the different draws. The middle one was locked but the side ones weren't. With a small smirk, she found what she was looking for. A letter opener was sitting in one of the draws. As she went to reach for it, she heard the door unlocking. Grabbing it quickly, she tucked it into her tight shorts. She readjusted her shirt to hide it.
Slowly, the door opened and a very dark haired man walked through it. She looked astonished for she never thought a captain could look this handsome. Up until this day, she always preferred men with short hair but that all changed once she set eyes on the Captain's long dark curly hair which went a little past his shoulders. His eyes were first on the bed but instantly began searching the room since his captive was not where she was supposed to be. Quickly, his eyes landed on her curvy body that hovered around his desk. His eyes narrowed before walking slowly towards her. Within an instant, she bolt from the desk and to another wall since his body still blocked the escape route. He turned to where she on stood pressed against the corner of two of the walls. The only way to pass him was by going over the bed. Their eyes locked together. For minutes neither moved. The woman's eyes darted between the Captain's and the door. "Even if you were to escape this room, you still would have to get passed my crew." His English was much better than his crews making it all the much easier to understand him. "Also, if ye do try to escape there will be punishment."
For a moment, she said nothing. "I'll take my chances." She finally said before jumping onto the bed and off of it when she reached the other side. As she began to open the door, she felt a strong arm wrap around her small waist. She didn't even have time to fight because she was thrown on top of the bed. Even though it wasn't much, she felt some pain in her wrist which delayed her reaction. Because of her delay, the captain was able to kick the door shut and climb on top of her, securing her beneath his own body.
With all her might, she tried to get him off of her but and no success. "Stop fighting, stupid wench or I will have to stop you." It was at that moment that she noticed the hook that took the place of his right hand. He had brought it to her cheek. She froze at the thought of being sliced into pieces by that thing. "That's much better. Now what's your name?"
She didn't say anything for a moment since she got caught up in his very bright blue eyes. They were rather remarkable. "Lizzie Hemington."
One could tell he was not pleased with this answer. "Are you related to Wendy Darling?"
One of her eyebrows raised in curiosity. She thought for a moment before speaking. "One of my ancestors was named that. I believe my great-great-great grandmother. She once lived in the house that I inherited from my father."
His mood started to improve somewhat from this news. Lizzie began to scold her herself was giving that information so lightly. Sometimes, she could be a real idiot. "Who are you?" She said with venom.
With a smirk he replied, "I am the notorious, Captain James Hook of the Jolly Roger."
Again, she looked confused. "Are you trying to tell me that the story of Peter Pan is true and that my great-great-great grandmother was the Wendy in the story? Impossible."
"Darling, you were just brought onto a ship that can fly. Nothing is impossible." He said arrogantly as he brushed away a few strands of hair with his hook.
Well that was true. Still, the story was all true? Sure she had not really read the book or anything but still new the basic story. It just amazed her how this fiction book turned into a non-fiction one. Her thoughts came to a close and she focused her attention on her captain. "Would you get off of me? This is very uncomfortable."
He gave her a devilish smile. "On the contrary, this is very comfortable." His turned over on his hook side so his right elbow could support him. It was then that he used his good hand to run his hand down her waist and to her naked thigh.
Arousal formed within her and she let out a small gasp. "Hey cut it out you pervert." She snapped at him not wanting him to know that this was making her wet.
"I did tell you that there would be punishment for trying to escape." He whispered in her ear oozing with seduction. His hand that was now rubbing her thigh began to drift to the inside where he could really pleasure her. Her mouth opened but was unable to say or do anything but let him stroke her through her panties. Hook took this opportunity to capture her mouth with his. His tongue darted into her mouth playing with hers. At first, she did nothing for it was too sudden and part of her wanted to resist him. But soon, she gave up her resistance and participated. Her tongue danced with his while his fingers stroke her more aggressively. Eventually, his fingers moved her panties to the side and entered her. She gasped into his mouth at the feeling of being violated. This was the first time this was happening to her and she didn't know how to react. It felt so good but so wrong at the same time. Hook entered another finger and began to thrust them in and out. It took all of her will not to meet his thrusts.
All of this ended in the matter of minutes when she tried to adjust herself a little bit. The pain in her hand was to great that it broke her from the trance she was in. Frantically, she began to fight him. "Stop it. Please. Just get of me!" She began to scream. Hook's fingers were wretched from her virgin hole as when the girl bit his tongue when he tried to force his mouth onto hers again.
"Damn it!" He yelled in anger. He then pushed her off of his bed. Lizzie fell in pain. Captain Hook got off of the bed and bent down beside her. Out of nowhere he produced a leg shackle that was secured to one of the legs of the bed. Clamping it around her ankle, he got up and peered down at her. "Until, you learn how to behave you will be force to be shackled up and sleep on the floor."
He walked over to an armoire and opened it. He pulled out a very thin blanket and a not as fluffy pillow and threw it at her. She covered her face so not to get hit by them. "Be thankful that I am at least giving you some essentials." He then started to undress for the night. He threw his long coat onto his desk chair and began to unbutton the white shirt that covered him. As he took it off, Lizzie was amazed by how muscular he was. She also noticed the many scars that covered his back. She also noticed the few tattoos that were on his shoulders and back. "Enjoying the view?" He said without turning around.
Instantly, she looked away from him and began to make her bed. She heard his chuckle in amusement. Once, she had the covers over her scantily dressed body, she looked back over to where he once stood. He wasn't standing there anymore. It wasn't until the candle light was blown out that she knew that he had just got in bed. "Rest well my sweet for tomorrow will be a not so pleasant day for you." He said aloud before muttering so only he could make out the words. "Or for me." He referred to the desired to bed her.