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By Hook or By Crook	By : OktoberBlack Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 14973 -:- 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
- 16
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Disclaimer: Not my characters (except for the ones that are). Not making any money off of them. Wish I were, never going to be. Don’t sue me, please.

I’m on a roll here. Two chapters in the same week! And I’m wearing a thumb splint now, so typing is even harder than it was previously. Good for me.

Once again, remember Hook is a pirate. That means he’s a bad man. B-A-D. So this chapter has non-con and violence. I only warn you if you squick easily.

By Hook or By Crook (for want of a better name)

Chapter Seventeen: Torture Techniques

I stared down at the floor in front of me. I had a gross taste in my mouth, my nose was stuffed up from crying, and my cheek hurt. I was tied to a chair and my hands and feet had gone to sleep. But I didn’t want to tell him what he wanted to know because if I did… well, not only would I not get home again but Hook would have a much freer reign over my world. He already had the power to take his boat back and forth between the worlds. I didn’t know why he needed another method of getting there, but obviously he did and I didn’t want to be the one to provide him with it. He slid his hook under my chin and gently forced my face up to look at him.
“You will tell me what I want to know. Oh, perhaps not now, but soon.” He kissed me on the lips and then stepped back. “Smee!”
“Yes, Captain?” Smee said, as he peeped around the corner of the cave entrance.
“She’s to have nothing to eat or drink until I tell you. Is that clear?” Hook said. Smee nodded mutely. I looked back down at the floor and new tears trickled down my cheeks. My cut stung. “I’m returning to the ship but I’ll be back before the sun goes down. Keep her here.”
“What if she needs to… you know?” Smee asked.
“You know? You know what?” Hook asked, his eyes narrowed at Smee.
“You know… use the toilet,” Smee hissed.
“She’ll have to make do,” Hook replied, taking his feathered hat from Smee’s out stretched hand. “If she soils herself, clean her up.”
“Yessir,” Smee said, as Hook strode from the cave. Smee turned to look at me. “Well, here we are again then. I suppose he’s gone to see what’s happened to Pan.” He sighed and left the cave, leaving me alone.

I spent the day tied to the chair with Smee as my only company. As it turned out, I probably would have been better off without him. He talked incessantly about nothing. I tried to sleep, or at least doze, but his constant chatter drove me nearly insane. The cave was lit indirectly by the sunlight outside. Stephano had set up an elaborate system of mirrors to catch the light from the cave mouth and project it into each of the back rooms. I tried to keep track of the hours by watching the movement of the sun. By the time the sun began to go down, I was ready to kill Smee if only I could get loose. He brought in lanterns when the sun finally sunk so far down that no light penetrated the cave.
“Well, I wonder where the Captain’s got to? He should be back by now. He always keeps his word, the Captain does. Why, I remember this time when…” he began. I groaned and wished I could stop up my ears. Or bang my head against the floor until I passed out. Either would do. “Eh? What’s that?” Smee asked. He suddenly perked up and looked toward the mouth of the cave. “I’ll be right back. You just sit right there.” I rolled my eyes. Smee got up and walked out of the room and I sighed, revelling in the blessed quiet his absence created. It didn’t last long, however. Hook strode into the room, followed by three or four pirates carrying furniture.
“Put it down there and there,” he directed. The pirates placed a large sofa in one corner of the room, and a desk and chair in the other. The fourth man deposited a large, stuffed armchair about a metre away from me. Hook waved them away and then went to the lanterns to turn up the flame. The room became incredibly bright. “Well, my dear, I hope you’ve had an exciting day.”
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered, my mouth dry as dust. “Can I have something to drink?”
“Of course, of course,” Hook said. He turned and shouted for Smee, who once again appeared almost as soon as his name was called. “Wine. And there’s a basket of food from the ship outside. Bring that in as well.”
“Very good Captain. We’re having supper then, are we?” Smee asked, rubbing his hands together.
“We are, Mister Smee, yes. But your supper is outside with the men. Cook is already out there, serving it up. Bring in the basket and the wine, and you may go have your supper,” Hook said, gesturing with his good hand toward the clearing outside the cave.
“Yessir,” Smee said, a bit crestfallen. Hook sat down in the armchair and looked at me. I stared back at him. He didn’t say anything, but just continued to look at me, as if he wanted to memorize my features. I squirmed uncomfortably, and wished I could get away somehow from his unrelenting gaze.

Smee returned shortly with two bottles of red wine and large picnic basket. “Your basket, Sir.”
“You may have one of the bottles of wine, Smee. For doing such a good job today,” Hook said, his gaze never leaving me.
“Yes Sir!” Smee said enthusiastically. He put the basket and wine down on the desk and then hightailed it out of there. Hook stared at me for a moment more before going to open the wine.
“It’s red, so we should really let it breathe for an hour or so before we drink it, but I believe we can overlook that nicety just this once,” he said, shoving the end of his hook into the cork and pulling it out with a quick gesture. He pulled two goblets out of the basket and poured the wine. “Now, I’m going to untie your hands so you may drink. I would suggest you don’t take advantage of my magnanimous nature and do anything rash.” He pulled at the knots in the rope at my wrists twice and the ropes came free. I rubbed my wrists vigorously as the blood and feeling came back to my hands. It hurt, dammit. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, my dear.”
“Smee talked enough for both of us today,” I said, as he handed me a goblet of wine. I tried to drink it slowly but I was so thirsty! What I really wanted was water, but I didn’t think there was a chance of getting any.
“Yes, he does tend to do that,” Hook admitted, as he pulled the cover off of the picnic basket. “I’ve often considered using him as a torture device but even I’m not that cruel.” He pulled out a number of covered dishes and bowls, and set them down on the desk. “Now, I hope you’ve considered telling me what I want to know.”
“I’m not going to tell you anything,” I said, as I drained the wine from my goblet. He promptly refilled it and I took another drink. I could already feel the room spinning.
“I see. Well, perhaps after a good supper you’ll feel differently,” he said.

He dished up a plate full of stewed chicken, potatoes, and glazed carrots. Then he sat at the desk and began to eat. I stared at him over my wine. He looked up at me, as though he were shocked. “I’m sorry. Did you want some too?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” I said. “But I suppose it’s too much to ask.” I closed my eyes, tears once again coursing down my cheeks. I rubbed at them with my newly freed hands. “You know, there’s only so many times you can pull that stunt before I’ll just give up and it won’t work any more.”
“And at that point, I shall feed you without you asking,” Hook said. He threw a chicken leg at me. I didn’t catch it and it landed in my lap. “There. Now let me finish my meal in peace.” I tore the meat off the leg ravenously, trying not to swallow too much at once. I didn’t want to choke. I washed it down with the rest of the red wine in my goblet, dizziness be damned. I pulled every single piece of flesh from that chicken leg and even considered cracking the bone for the marrow, like a dog. Then I threw the bone on the ground and burst into tears. Hook looked up from his plate. “Now what? Lucifer, women are so needy! I gave you wine. I gave you food. What more can you possibly want?”
“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you!” I spat. “And I’m not going to give you anything either!” I tried to stifle my tears but I was so tired and I couldn’t feel my feet any more. I just wanted to go home! Why wouldn’t he just let me go home?
“More wine, then?” he said, coming around the desk to pour more red wine into my goblet. I felt ill but I was still so thirsty, I didn’t have the will to say no. He poured; I drank. And the room spun.

He returned to his meal, finishing it with relish. He wiped his lips and moustache with a large, red silk napkin from the basket, and then placed the napkin on his empty plate before rising from behind the desk. “When I returned to the ship, I brought you something back,” he began, taking the now empty goblet from me and refilling it.
“You brought something back for me?” I asked, more cynical than surprised. It couldn’t be anything good.
“Yes. I imagine after all your trekking through that nasty, dirty jungle you’d like to bathe,” Hook suggested. I looked at him, my eyes wide. I was surprised after all.
“You brought a bathtub up that cliff?”
“Well, I had my men do it, but yes, I brought a bathtub up the cliff. Shall I have Smee prepare it for you?”
“What do I have to do first?” I asked, the cynic in me rising once more to the surface.
“Do? Why, nothing.” His eyes grew wide, as if he were hurt I’d suggest such a thing. It didn’t matter that he’d always made sexual demands before allowing me any kind of privileges, including, usually, before eating. “You’ve been sitting here in those rags all day without the benefit of a chamber pot or toilet. And you spent the last day or two tramping through the jungle. I should think a bath would be most welcome.”
“Well, then… yes, I’d very much like to take a bath,” I replied. I drained the goblet of wine once last time. The bottle was empty and I’d drunk most of it. “Do I get to be untied so I can take it?”
“You can’t very well take a bath tied to that chair, can you?” Hook said. He stuck his head out the door of the cave. “Smee!” he called. Then he looked back at me. “And perhaps another bottle of wine?”

Smee had already prepared the bath as it turned out—Hook had some kind of a plan in place, but I couldn’t be sure what it was. I didn’t want to fall for it, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to help myself. After all, I could barely walk thanks in some part to the fact that I couldn’t feel my feet, but mostly due to all the wine I’d drunk in the last hour. My reflexes and ability to say no were shot to shit. Hook helped me to the bedroom, where the books had been placed neatly back on the shelves and the bed was made with clean, fresh-smelling sheets. Two lanterns lit the room, in the centre of which now stood a huge metal bath filled with steaming water. My shirt was still partially unbuttoned from the day before; Hook didn’t bother to unbutton it the rest of the way, but merely sliced the buttons off with his hook and pulled my shirt off with his good hand. I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed to take off my boots and Hook sat down next to me. Smee bent to help him remove his boots before helping me remove mine. In short order, both Hook and I were nude and Smee had left the bedroom, a slight blush creeping up his neck. Hook helped me off the bed and into the tub. It wasn’t very deep but it was long and wide. I sat down and Hook slid in behind me. My brain registered surprise briefly while the rest of me was berating me for thinking it would be any different. Why did you think he was taking his clothing off? Are you stupid? I admonished myself. No, just totally drunk, I thought back to myself and then I giggled.
“Having fun, my dear?” Hook said, a bar of soap in his good hand. He hadn’t removed his hook and it hung down the side of the metal bath.
“Fun?” I asked and then giggled again, the room spinning around me. Dammit, I didn’t want to be drunk. Why did I drink all that wine? I lay back, my head resting on his chest. He slid his hand around to cup one breast, his thumb stroking my nipple slowly. The bar of soap floated down between my knees and I grabbed for it, something in my brain telling me to wash and get it done with. The soap smelled like lilacs and was overpowering for a moment. I thought I was going to vomit, but I held it back by breathing deeply. Then I began to wash myself. Hook continued to cup my breast, his face buried in my hair. I could feel his hot breath on my scalp as he breathed in my scent, his long hair tickling my neck and making my back itchy. The soap slipped out of my hands and splashed into the water. I giggled again and tried to pick it up but I couldn’t make my hands work well enough. Hook didn’t even seem to notice. He had moved his face from the top of my head to my neck and ear, and was currently kissing me slowly and deliberately. What the hell was his game? I couldn’t even think, I was so drunk. “What… what are you doing?” I managed to gasp. “I dropped the soap.”
“Never mind the soap,” he growled into my ear and my world spun a little bit faster. I didn’t want this. I didn’t! I knew there’d be a price for being allowed to take a bath. I knew it! I could feel his erection pressing against my ass from behind.
“But… we’re in the bath,” I protested weakly. He growled incoherently and grappled around in front of me for the errant soap. Then he washed me, rather roughly but, most amazingly, with only one hand. Smee had provided shampoo and buckets of hot water to rinse with, so Hook had me wash first my hair and then his. He seemed less than pleased to be interrupted in what he obviously thought was his lovemaking, so the whole soggy affair was completed in a fairly perfunctory manner. Soon he had us draped in large bath towels, standing on a rug before the bed while we dried off. The cave was warmer than I would have expected, but that might have been the combined effect of the wine and the hot water.

Once dry, Hook divested us both of our towels, throwing them on the floor. Then he pushed me onto the bed. I lay on the down quilt and mattress, my arms flung out to my sides, and let the room spin around me. My stomach protested against the alcohol I’d ingested and I closed my eyes, trying to prevent the nausea I felt from overwhelming me. Hook had already taken advantage of the situation and had spread my legs, his whiskers tickling my inner thighs. I could feel his breath against my pubic lips and I gasped as a shiver ran through my body. He spread my lips open with his good hand, his hook resting against my thigh; his tongue slipped out and licked lightly at my clit and I sucked in my breath.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, my wine-fuddled brain clearing for just a moment.
“Don’t you like it?” he asked, looking up at me over my pubic bone.
“But that’s not the point,” I said. I was so confused!
“I shall do as I please,” he said, and planted a kiss on my clit. “And right now…” another long lick and I shuddered… “this pleases me.” And with that enigmatic statement, he attacked my pussy with vigour. He licked and sucked at my clit until I squirmed underneath him. My stomach roiled with the wine inside it. My head throbbed and spun. And oh god… I was coming… I screamed out loud as the pleasure boiled up through my body and Hook laughed out loud. He sat up and pushed my legs up to my shoulders. He sank his thick cock deep inside of me, and began to thrust so hard I thought I would break in two. I came again in short order, another scream slipping through my clenched teeth, but he didn’t stop. He found his rhythm and kept going, his flesh smacking against my own with each thrust. “Did you really think that pain was all I had in my arsenal, my lovely? There are many ways to make a woman talk,” he said with a grin. Then he changed the angle of his thrusts and within seconds I was coming again.

With very little food in my system and way too much wine, I felt exhausted and nauseated. Hook’s technique was overwhelming my nervous system and I felt like I would soon short out. Surely he would come soon and this would be over?
“Did you know,” he began conversationally as he pulled out of me and rolled me over onto my front, “that the natives here have developed the most amazing restoratives and potions?” He used his good hand to pull up on my stomach so my ass ended up in the air. Then he thrust back into me from behind and I came again, a huge orgasm that rolled from my toes to the tips of my ears. “As a matter of fact, the men in the tribe have developed a potion that can give a man, any man, the most amazing staying power when it comes to lovemaking.” He slapped my ass cheek and slid his hand underneath me to stroke my clit. “I can go for hours…”
“Oh god,” I groaned, burying my face in the pillow in front of me. Hook changed his angle once again and suddenly he was stroking my g-spot with the tip of his long cock. I thought I was going to die, but instead I came again, my screams muffled by the pillow.
“God will not help you here, my sweet. All you need to do is tell me what I want to know,” he said, thrusting into me slowly and steadily. His hook rested on my back; I could feel the coolness of the metal against my overheated flesh. “What did you find and where did you put it?”
“I… I… “ I started. Then I vomited all over the bed in front of me. Hook stopped thrusting.

“Well,” he said. He withdrew and sat back on his heels. “That rather puts a damper on things. I can’t do this when all I can smell is your sick.” He stood up beside the bed and reached for his shirt. He pulled it on, his still erect cock sticking out from underneath the hem. “Smee!” I sat up in bed, trying not to vomit again but all I could smell was my own vomit too, and it was making me want to vomit again. Smee came running into the room, but he blushed and turned his head when he saw us.
“Um, y-yes, Captain?” Smee asked as he covered his eyes with his hands.
“You idiot! You’re going to have to look,” Hook said, ripping Smee’s hands away with his one good hand. “I need to you to change the bed and clean her up. Now.”
“Of course, Captain,” Smee said, shuffling sideways towards the bed. Hook strode out of the room, his trousers in his hand, the torchlight gleaming off his hook. “I’m sorry, Miss, but would you mind getting into the tub? I won’t look.”
“Oh god… I’m going to…” I grabbed the bucket nearest to the bathtub and puked my guts out into it. I didn’t have a lot left to puke, so I mostly dry-heaved into it. It felt like my guts were coming up through my mouth and nose. Smee busied himself with pulling the sheets and comforter off the bed and bundling it up to wash. At least, I assumed he was going to wash the linen; for all I knew, he was just going to throw it out. He left the room while I still vomiting. When he came back, I was sitting in the now cold bath water, shivering and trying to wash the puke off of me with the dirty water and soap.
“Here,” Smee said, and handed me a mug of water. It was ice cold and it felt amazing going down my throat. It was just what I needed and when I’d drunk it all, I held out the mug for more. He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have brought you that in the first place. Now, finish washing off and I’ve got a new towel for you.” He put new linens on the bed while I finished washing and when I stood up, he thrust a towel at me and turned his back. “Dry off, Miss. I promise I won’t look.”
“I don’t think I’m going to get any new clothing, Mr. Smee, so it probably doesn’t matter if you look or not,” I said with a sigh. I shook from the effort of puking and my nervous system was still over-stimulated from the fucking Hook had administered previously. I was very careful drying my privates; just touching my skin anywhere near my crotch made me want to cringe. Smee left the room and I sank down on the newly made bed just as Hook came back in. He was still wearing only his white linen shirt and amazingly, his cock was still quite erect.
“Clean? Good,” was all he said. Then he grabbed my hair, pulling me to my feet.
“Ow! You freak! Let me go!” I protested, trying to push away from him, but despite all my vomiting I was still pretty drunk and I couldn’t control my limbs very well. He just laughed harshly and pulled me up against him.
“I’m not done yet.”

He slid his hand between my legs, his hook pressed against my back, and his fingers rubbed against my much-abused clit. I shuddered and cried out, half in pleasure and half in pain.
“No, no more,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
“Much, much more,” he countered, shaking his long curly hair out behind him. He pushed me up against the wall, heaving me up bodily with his one good hand, and thrusting into me as soon as I was in position. I wasn’t very ready for him and experienced more pain then pleasure as he began to thrust into me hard.
“Stop! It hurts! Stop!” I cried out, but once again, he just laughed.
“Tell me what I want to know,” he said, his body pinning me to the wall with each thrust. I buried my face in his neck, my teeth bared. I bit him, hard, and he bellowed in pain. He pulled out of me and I fell to the floor. “Bitch!” He grabbed my arm and hauled me to the bed, flinging me down on it. I kicked out at him, just missing his balls but hitting his thigh instead. “Lucifer!” He backhanded me across the face and I saw stars, blood filling my mouth. Then he was on me again, turning me over and plunging into me from behind, my face mashed into the bed. “I will take from you what I want! Do you understand? Bloody bitch. Bloody bitch!” He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back as he fucked me harder than ever. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Then he came and it was over. He pulled out of me and got off the bed, breathing hard. “You will tell me what I want to know or I will kill you, do you hear me?! I will kill you!” he shouted, his hook in my face. I tried to get up off the bed, but he slapped me back down again and my head snapped back so hard I thought I heard my neck break. I lay on the bed, breathing hard and trying not to pass out. He stood over me, breathing just as hard, his hook held up as though he wanted to eviscerate me then and there and get it over with. “I didn’t want it to come to this. It should never have come to this.” He stood looking at me, furious, for a moment more, before striding out of the room.
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By Hook or By Crook