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A Bunch of Hook/Pan Oneshots	By : lexyhamilton Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Slash Views: 9605 -:- 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
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Written 5/1/04

Castration challenge continued.

Panectomy

Wendy rowed the canoe onwards, intent on reaching the ship. Not so many days ago, the pirates had captured her in the forest, held a knife to her throat as Peter hovered uncertainly, dagger shaking in his hand, eyes blazing with indignation because Hook wasn’t playing by the rules. The captain had donned off his hat, greeted the boy graciously, and told him in a saccharin voice that there was a way out of the impasse.

Peter submitted himself to take Wendy’s place, and Hook surprised everyone but Peter when he held to his word and released Wendy. The girl, in all her selfish fear, ran away immediately, but her conscience began to gnaw at her when her beau did not return. She feared the worst, and slowly got up the courage to approach the Indians and ask for their help. The Indians harbored no friendship for Pan, but did give her a rather leaky canoe to travel in. Her plan was not thought out in the least-- in her childish naivety, she hoped to use her charms in convincing Hook to let his nemesis go. Being a romantic, she even imagined martyring herself, trading places with Peter. Perhaps she would even be killed, she pondered, but this thought did not frighten her when it was abstract and not accompanied by a cold blade against her skin and a hairy arm gripping her roughly around the chest.

She reached the Jolly Roger later than she anticipated, her thin arms aching from the effort of paddling. The pirates had seen her from afar and let down a rope ladder, which she climbed, her heart beating less from fear than excitement at imagining herself a true pirate. She jumped onto the deck and self-importantly declared that she would speak with the Captain. Hook came out dressed in his full glory, and Wendy made sure not to show her awe.

“You must be looking for your little playmate? How nice of you to honor him with your visit. He’ll be glad to see you, I’m sure.” Wendy beamed, interpreting Hook’s benevolent airs as evidence of her irresistible powers of attraction. This was confirmed when Hook bellowed for Smee to set the table in quite a different tone.

Wendy sat down in the chair, daintily arranging her hands on her lap, and then wiping her nose on the back of her hand with equal grace. Hook grimaced, and was once again reminded of why he could not stand eating in the company of children.

“I’m glad to see you’ve kept Peter alive. I couldn’t call you a true gentleman if you killed your captives.”

“I assure you nothing is more important to me than your high estimation of my person,” Hook sat down across from her, pouring amber liquid into his goblet. Wendy simpered, and threw back a strand of hair over her shoulder. Sensual as a muskrat, Hook sneered.

“So where is Peter?” Wendy started on an apple, sometimes remembering to close her mouth while chewing.

“He’ll be along shortly. Smee has to prepare his toilette for him. You can’t imagine how much upkeep that boy requires,” Hook said, sipping at his cup with reserve.

Peter finally walked in, escorted by Smee. Wendy gasped. The face was hardly recognizable, obscured by a layer of powder and makeup so thick it seemed to hold his face rigid. He was clothed in a strumpet’s dress along with uneven, obvious padding stuffed into areas where his gaunt body was lacking. He walked awkwardly, limping, as Smee led him across the cabin to the table. Peter sat down by Hook without a word, his eyes fixed on the empty plate before him. Hook looked at him approvingly, running his metal appendage through Peter’s hair, now garishly decorated with silk ribbons.

“What did you do to him?!” Wendy finally managed to stutter out.

“I said he would take your place. Although he’s prettier than you, he wasn’t quite the wench I had been seeking when I caught you.”

Wendy jumped out of her seat, and ran around the table, and took Peter’s hand, but he flinched away.

“Don’t disturb the lad. He's so distraught at times. You know how women’s passions vacillate…”

“You’re an awful, dishonorable man. And we’re leaving,” Wendy announced with confidence. Hook smiled.

“I have grown quite tired of the brat lately. He’s not worth his keep. So I’ll have a last go with him, and then you two can be off on your merry little way.”

Peter shuddered, his mouth twitching, and something redder than the lipstick appearing on it. Wendy screamed.

“What’s wrong with him? Why doesn’t he speak?” she asked.

“He’s been quite intractable most of the time, and I gave him fair warnings about my expectations. Children should be seen not heard. Yesterday was the last straw. Though, I assure you, it pained me deeply to do it, as it quite reduced the repertoire of how I could force him to please me.” Hook grabbed Peter’s chin, manually opening his jaws to reveal a preternaturally hollow and bloody interior. Wendy’s face lost color.

“He’s far more agreeable company when he’s not spouting imbecilic insults in that grating voice of his.” Hook took the opportunity to kiss Peter, who made no protest. The man spat out congealed blood he had inadvertently sucked in directly onto Peter’s cheek, and wiped the fingers whitened by the face powder on the boy’s dress.

“Please be patient, my lady, this will be brief,” Hook said, unbuttoning his trousers. “And you, bend over the table!” Wendy watched in reluctant fascination as Peter moved the plate out of the way and obeyed, Hook throwing the hem of the skirt up and entering him from behind. The boy finally cried out, which earned him a hard slap on the buttocks and even rougher penetration.

***

Wendy toiled to distance the canoe from the ship, trying to ignore the jeering and insults hurled at her and her companion from above. Peter sat in the scummy pool of water at the bottom of the boat, his posture grotesque and pained, but the eyes behind the heavy mascara completely listless. As soon as they had gotten out of hearing rage, Peter violently tore the ribbons from his hair, and tossed the padding from his chest and hips into the water. Wendy wept, as silent as her companion.

The canoe finally hit the sand, and Wendy climbed out, trying to pull it out completely to no avail. Peter grimaced as he stood up and clambered out into the water, the dress on him filthy and wet. Wendy walked slowly across the beach, Peter leaning on her heavily, his feet far apart, all his movements labored. It was no longer fun to play mother.

“It’ll be alright,” Wendy lied to herself, stroking his face. Pained tears streaked down from his eyes, washing runs in the caked white paint.

When they reached the edge of the forest, he pulled away from her, trying to make his way into a thick part of the vegetation.

“Stop! Peter, come back here!” Wendy ran after him, eager to exert her authority over him as his rescuer. Peter turned and pushed her away lightly, shaking his head. Finally, with an enormous effort, he opened his mouth, pronouncing something hideously-- his lips working overtime, but still only just barely intelligible words coming out. He was in tears at the pain of the stump in his mouth trying to push up into his palate as of old. ‘Go away,’ Wendy thought she discerned, but before she could try to persuade him to change his mind, he turned away, and lifted the bent hoop of the dress’s bottom. Urine trickled down his thighs. Wendy only noticed this peculiarity after seeing his frame wracked with sobs at terrible pain.

“Peter! What are you doing?” she asked rather petulantly, dragging him back to the water’s edge. “Wash up! You can’t go around dirty like that.”

She opened the dress’s back and helped him slip out of it. For the first time she saw the frightening cauterized wound on his body and screamed. Peter walked in nude, the salt water burning his groin. He was in the water waist-deep before he saw the face of the mermaid not far from him. He turned to Wendy, giving her one last wistful smile before submerging himself into the depths.

Wendy paced the rocky shore, waiting for Peter’s head to bob back out. She felt a twinge of annoyance that all evidence of her recent noble exertions had gone and drowned.
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A Bunch of Hook/Pan Oneshots