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Eternal Whore	By : lexyhamilton Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Slash Views: 6376 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Eternal Whore
- 1
Peter awoke earlier than Hook, feeling stifled between the man and the wall. One of his wrists was still chained to the bedpost, wrenching his arm into an uncomfortably twisted position. A forced cough or two roused Hook from his delicious dreams.

As soon as the man focused his foggy eyes on the body he was crushing he moved toward the edge, and stroked the smooth skin of the boy's cheek with his frightening stump. He stared into the indignant, childishly large eyes that would never forgive him all his past transgressions, and retained a residual redness from the tears that had glistened so beautifully in the moonlight as Hook thrust into the boy in the unholy darkness of the cabin.

The ache in Peter's backside resulting from last night's activities was very dull compared to that which had followed the few initial sessions after his capture. Peter's body was showing progressive signs of wear and tear, and Hook was trying to be more considerate—taking care to use plenty of oil and proceeding slowly and gently. He had to be careful not to damage his eternal whore in the fits of passion the boy aroused in him.

It was a shame, really. younyoungster was not—would not ever be—developed enough to enjoy what Hook had to offer. In the early days of the capture, Hook relished Pan's pain and humiliation, and the utter one-sidedness of the pleasure. It was fitting revenge for the child's countless offenses against him, not the least of which was the gruesome dismemberment that happened long ago but remd vid vivid enough in the captain's memory. Hook shuddered as he recalled the fateful duel, assembling the elaborate hook apparatus with a tortured deliberacy. The hook glistened menacingly in front of Peter's face before pulling aside a few strands of hair from the eyes.

Unfortunately, the boy had been reduced to a whimpering, pathetic shadow of himself all too soon, and the captain barely had time to enjoy his triumph over the brash arrogance of the brat. The raping was still satisfying these days but perfunctory, as Peter would cease to struggle almost immediately and simply stare into Hook’s eyes with a dejected hatred. A smile had not played upon those moist lips since the day of his capture.

Hook grinned. "Would you care for a foray off into the sky, lad?" Peter's eyes grew large and betrayed some excitement. "Restrained, of course. Wouldn't want my sparrow to flutter out of my clutches, now would I?"

"On a long chain?" Peter asked hopefully.

"We shall see…" Hook murmured, his mouth coming to rest on that tantalizing neck, and sucing ing a monstrous hickey on it. Peter suppressed visible cringing, not wishing to jeopardize Hook's promised gift.

***
The boy stood, feet still planted firmly on the deck, enjoying a brief stretching of what must have been every tendon and ligament, all with one tremulous arch of the spine and stiffening of the limbs. The pleasure derivedm thm this most simple of actions was so plainly manifested on his face that Hook felt slight jealousy about how hard he had tried to make it good for Pan last night, ultimately failing—- always failing. Peter's body was so delicate, and so gracefully poised at this preparation for his first flight in weeks… Desires were immediately rekindled in the captain to take the boy-- take him up against every barrel and crate on this deck in all imaginable positions. Yet he knew these sentiments had to be restrained for the time. Suddenly he needed to see Pan happy, with a perverse passion.

Hook bound one end of the chain to the mast, the other end being a complicated series of knots looped around Peter’s body elaborately enough to banish any hope of escape. The jangle of the chain was disheartening to the boy's ears, but he blocked the sound out, along with the heavy metal tightness around him, and focused his eyes on the open sky above—- a sky that taunted him with freedom he had once so callously taken for granted.

Hook looked on in half-disbelief as the boy's feet parted with the deck, silently, effortlessly, as if there were nothing extraordinary in this contradiction of every physical law. While Hook gaped enviously, Peter felt apprehensive. Flying felt awkward after such a long hiatus, but he soon regained his intuitive feel and shot up into the sky almost reflexively. The chains cruelly bit into his shoulders when he reached the end of the tether.

"Don’t try anything funny, Pan." Peter heard Hook's voice booming from below. There was Neverland, there was the shore-— so close! The boy felt tears welling up as he deplored the merciless tug of the chain on his body. Yet there was no use in suffering pain, so Peter flew back enough to have the chain on his shoulders relax, and began to practice the mid-air acrobatics that seemed far less natural to him after all this time. Hook had fleeting moments of sudden dread, as the form of the boy in the air instinctively prompted him to grab at the hilt of his sword before he could remind himself that Pan was still captive and at his mercy.

Having regained some composure, Peter began enjoying the exercise immensely. Finally out of the stuffy cabin, out in the air, his body felt small and inconsequential compared to his vast surroundings. He loved the feeling of insignificance now. In Hook's cabin everything would come to center on his internal feelings, on the pain emanating from the muscles straining against Hook's intrusion... the entire world seemed to shrink into a bleak bubble enclosing their two bodies, locked in excruciating union. It was extremely disappointing but not surprising to feel the tug of the chain as Hook reeled the boy back to the deck after a period of time far too short for Peter’s liking.

***

Hook took off Peter's shirt to examine the large bruises on the shoulder.

"You really shouldn't strain it like this, my little pixie. I like your shoulders white better than blue." Peter did not utter a reply, and felt a slight nausea sweeping over him as Hook continued to remove the rest of the makeshift outfit Smee had sewn together for him.

"Will you let me out on a longer chain tomorrow?" Peter’s voice interrupted Hook's efforts to chain his wrists to the bed.

"We shall see… It really all depends on you, boy." Peter thought he understood the captain's meaning. Hook leaned in to kiss Peter deeply. The boy felt unsure, but pushed his tongue into the kiss, and even put his yet unfettered arm around Hook's neck.

"My, but you are good when you're whoring yourself for favors," Hook smirked after finally pulling away. Peter was well beyond concerns about humility and honor, however. The familiar scent of the oil filled the room, and Peter shut his eyes, cursing the day he was born as he felt a long probing finger begin to prepare him for the impending session of pleasure.
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