Such Stuff
By Maximilian Cummings
Part 10
Jas. Hook
Poor Lizzie seemed fated to keep tripping over Conrad. She was walking in town lost in thought when, alongside her, she heard, “Did you get into Tom or, rather, did Tom get into you last night?” Conrad sniggered.
Lizzie was actually a bit frightened. Was there really some connection between her dreams and this odious young man?
“What, what do you mean?” she said turning to him. He was back in his yellow and black striped jumper.
“I mean did you enjoy ‘Tom Sawyer’, a perfectly sensible question since we discussed you reading the book yesterday. Did you get into it, did the book get really into your head?”
“Oh, no I didn’t read it.”
“Not even about Jackson’s Island where the Tom, Joe and of course Huck go off to be pirates? Surely you did? Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I dreamt you said you were going to read it. Do you dream a lot Lizzie? Do your dreams seem to be getting more and more real to you?” Conrad leaned forward. “I wonder if dreams and reality can come together, do you?”
“I, what do you mean, well that’s a bit deep for me, and...”
“My story is about dreams and reality colliding, shall I read some to you? The piece I am writing at present is about journeying and choices, I am sure you will find it interesting and relevant... oh before I read, perhaps you would like some tea and cake?” They were passing the teashop. How could Lizzie escape? To her relief she saw Lotte.
“I’m sorry but I promised to meet my friend and there she is, bye!” Lizzie hurried across the road to Lotte.
Conrad stood on the pavement outside the teashop and watched them walk off. “Nearly there Lizzie, I’ve nearly got you. I think you’re ready.” He opened the door of the shop and went in.
Lizzie got into bed that night with some disquiet. She had not liked what Conrad had said today. Whilst he had given a reasonable explanation it did awfully seem like he knew what went on inside her dreams, could see inside her head, had actually been there watching her being fucked by Tom Sawyer. That just couldn’t be—could it? Lizzie’s mind went round and round and she tossed and turned trying to settle herself for sleep.
One green light squinting over Kidd’s Creek, which is near the mouth of the pirate river, marked where the brig, the JOLLY ROGER, lay, low in the water; a rakish-looking craft foul to the hull, every beam in her detestable, like ground strewn with mangled feathers. She was the cannibal of the seas, and scarce needed that watchful eye, for she floated immune in the horror of her name.
She was wrapped in the blanket of night, through which no sound from her could have reached the shore. A few of the pirates leant over the bulwarks, drinking in the miasma of the night; others sprawled by barrels over games of dice and cards. Hook trod the deck in thought. From far within him he heard a creaking as of rusty portals, and through them came a stern tap-tap-tap, like hammering in the night when one cannot sleep. “Have you been good form to-day?” was their eternal question.
Hook was obsessed by form, by good form. Tiger Lily had a good form and he was determined to see it, to possess it, to enjoy it.
Lizzie was below, her hands and ankles were tied, and she was confused. This had not happened to her in any earlier dream. She knew, or was pretty sure she knew where she was captive. Clearly she was on a wooden ship, the movement and sound of the sea gave it away and she thought it would be Hook’s ship. She could see she was Tiger Lily again. Lizzie hardly had time to ponder her predicament when the wretched prisoner was dragged from the hold, her bonds cut and she was ranged in front of Hook. She stood blinking in the unaccustomed light seeing not just Hook but the rest of his awful crew standing and sitting around the deck. For a time he seemed unconscious of her presence. He lolled at his ease, humming, not unmelodiously, snatches of a rude song, and fingering a pack of cards. Ever and anon the light from his cigar gave a touch of colour to his face.
“Now then, Tiger Lily,” he said briskly, “you walk the plank to-night, but I have a mind to spare you on certain terms.”
There was a murmur of surprise and then dawning realisation at what their captain probably meant.
“Stow that gab,” roared Hook. “You, boy,” he said, addressing an able seaman, “you look as if you had a little pluck in you. Didst never want to take a squaw, my hearty?”
The others laughed heartily and nudged each other. The Captain liked his women warmed up and young Tom Staines would be the one to do it. “I, I don’t know what you mean Capt’n,” he said.
“Terms?” Said Lizzie diffidently, not much enjoying this dream and wondering if Peter Pan would soon rescue her.
.“Yes terms, I spare you the plank. You keep me pleasured with that sweet body of yours.”
“You jest, of course.”
“So, my beauty,” said Hook, as if he spoke in syrup, “that seals your doom, you are to walk the plank. Strip her.”
Discipline instantly relaxed; and the crew broke into a bacchanalian dance.
“Quiet, you scugs,” he cried, “or I’ll cast anchor in you”; and at once the din was hushed. “Starkey you do the deed.”
“Ay, ay.”
Gentleman Starkey came forward drawing a sharp knife from his belt. Lizzie did not flinch and he made short work of Lizzie’s pretty doeskin dress. It was the work of a moment for it to be lying in shreds on the bare planks of the Jolly Roger. A cheer went up from the crew as their enemy, Princess Tiger Lily stood before them naked. Her full round breasts with their large brown discs and little brown nipples visible to all the crew in the lantern light. Hook licked his lips as his eyes dropped from her nipples to the dark patch of hair between her thighs, his penis already straining at his breeches. He was not alone.
“Spread her,” he cried, “good form, good form!”
Lizzie did not at all like these turn of events. This was not a naughty and rather sweet erotic dream like the dreams of the last few weeks: this was a nightmare stark and clear. She should have tried to wake but she chose flight. Her arms and legs were free and she ran, pushing between Smee and Bill Jukes, sprinting along the deck looking left and right for an escape. Laughter followed her; she looked back; no one had moved.
“Let me collect her Capt’n,” said Bill Jukes his tattooed face breaking into a grin. Lizzie stared at his face and baldhead totally covered with tattoos. With a single motion he pulled the shirt over his head revealing that his chest and arms too were totally covered with tattoos. Even from the other end of the ship Lizzie could see they were not pictures of sailing ships and desert islands. A master of the tattooist’s art had covered him in brilliantly coloured pictures of the most lascivious nature. Lizzie could not believe her subconscious could have thought up such scenes. He began, to shouts of encouragement from the crew, to remove his breeches. The legend that Bill Jukes was every inch tattooed was true. His massive thighs were tattooed, his buttocks were tattooed and his cock standing proud and ready was intricately tattooed, though Lizzie could not yet see what the designs showed. The crew cheered as Bill Jukes began to advance on Lizzie, his great arms reaching forward above his pointing cock.
Lizzie did not know what to do; she remained irresolute, as Bill Jukes advanced towards her. Lizzie had to do something; she feinted to the right and ran past Bill Jukes to the left. A stinging smack landed on her buttocks. He was not slow. She skidded to a halt on the greasy deck facing the wall of the pirate crew; she could not get past them. She was breathing fast her breasts rising and falling, sweat dripping. She was about to turn and run back, past where she thought Bill Jukes was, when she felt two great hands on her breasts and a cock pushed hard between her bottom cheeks. She struggled but this only caused her bottom to wriggle against Bill Jukes’ cock. He was in no hurry to move and he let her wriggle fruitlessly for a good minute as his hands held tight to her breasts and she uselessly beat her fists back against his thighs.
With a single lunge of his hips Bill Juke’s swung Lizzie’s legs upwards, his hands moved and he caught her under her knees and pulled her to him. Lizzie was caught her knees pulled hard back against her chest by Bill Jukes’ hands and her back pushing into his stomach. Her thighs were, as a consequence spread, and her sex fully exposed to the crew’s, and most importantly, Jas. Hook’s inspection.
“Like this Capt’n?” asked Bill Jukes, “spread like this?”
“Aye, well done Jukes. Now where’s that lad, that able-seaman Tom Staines? Look lively now. Off with them rags.”
Tom did not need to be told twice. Orders is orders. His pale young body was very different from Bill Jukes. No tattoo disfigured his lily-white skin. His hands were not enormous, his chest not massive but like Bill Jukes his cock was firmly erect. If he was embarrassed to be tumescent amongst his crewmates he did not show it. His eyes were on Tiger Lily. Tom thought he had never seen anything so beautiful, so vulnerable, so desirable.
“Right young Tom, warm her up a bit, and give her a good tonguing, squaws like that.”
Tom was not ignorant. He knew what his captain wanted and he dropped to his knees between Lizzie’s spread thighs, stuck out his tongue and tentatively tasted her before setting to with enthusiasm.” The crew cheered him on.
Lizzie was torn between being terrified and enjoying the feel of Tom’s lapping tongue. “Perhaps the dream is getting better,” she thought, “young Tom is a good looking lad and not one of those other awful pirates.” She began to respond, her sex moistening and opening to Tom.
“I expect our Princess is ready now, young Tom,” said Hook, “out of the way.” Hook came right up to Lizzie and stroked a finger up her sex, “yes ready indeed. Away you go.” He stepped back and Tom set forward ready to do his duty.
Lizzie was held firm and exposed by Bill Jukes, there was nothing she could do, nothing to stop Tom as he stepped forward, aimed his penis and being young and inexperienced, did not savour the moment and take it slowly but pushed right in up to the hilt. The cheer from the crew was the loudest yet. Because of the peculiar way she was held Lizzie could not see Tom’s face but rather his chest. She could certainly feel his cock, feel Bill Jukes’ rough hands on the underside of her knees and worse of all feel Bill Jukes’ cock underneath her bottom rubbing against her bottom hole.
Tom had set to with gusto. He rammed his cock in and out of Lizzie as if it was a battering ram. No finesse, no experience, no prolonging of the moment, no control. He had hardly started before Lizzie felt the warm pulsing of his semen splashing into her sex. Tom stepped back gasping, his cock still dribbling and erect.
“Ha, the boy has readied her,” cried Hook, “who will catch her next. Let her down Bill, let her down.”
Bill Jukes released his grip and Lizzie slipped to the deck. She was up in a trice and on the move. But the crew seemed everywhere, hands patting or smacking her round bottom, pawing her breasts or indeed anywhere they could touch. Nonetheless she did slip past them and rushed below deck to hide. Hook sent Bill Jukes to find her.
It was not nice for Lizzie, hiding amongst some barrels, to hear the steady progress of the great naked tattooed man towards her. And steady it was. Bill Jukes was no fool, and his rigid cock ached for release. He needed to find her and find her he did.
Close to him, the graphic nature of the tattoos amazed and shocked Lizzie. Bill Jukes forced her to her knees in front of him.
“Well my pretty, what do you see?”
“I, er, I see ..”
“You see my cock.”
“I see your cock.”
“And what do you see on my cock?”
“Pictures.”
“Pictures of what?”
“Pictures of girls, pictures of men.”
“And what are the girls doing, Princess Tiger Lily?”
“They are, they are sucking the men’s cocks.”
“Yes, and what are you going to do?”
The answer had been obvious since the start of the conversation. Lizzie saw no point in answering with words. She bowed to the inevitable and took the rigid tattooed cock into her mouth. Bill Jukes let out a great sigh of pleasure, “Yesss.”
Lizzie worked in silence. What else could she do? Perhaps her dream would release her soon or get better.” Bill Jukes watched the pretty Indian princess’ mouth fastened around his cock. He liked to see pretty girls with their lips around his cock. Why Hook came to Neverland he could never fathom. Precious few pretty girls around here.
Bill Jukes felt his release nearing, the steady tickling of Tiger Lilly’s tongue on his cockhead. It was soon too much, he felt his scrotum tighten and the semen shooting up his cock. The sudden vice like grip on his testicles took him completely by surprise. There was a moment of clear thought and pleasure before the pain hit him and he fell to the deck planking in agony, his cock still pulsing. Lizzie was up and on the move again, free only for a moment for she ran straight into a gang of pirates sent to find out what Bill Jukes had done with her.
She was dragged to the deck again, the pirates being careful to secure and hold her in interesting ways. Holding her fast had surely not required the insertion of fingers into her sex and even her little wrinkled bottom hole?
Hook smiled when he saw her again. “Has Bill been taking advantage without permission? He’ll be punished for that... but so will you.”
“Tie her up!” he shouted.
It was Smee who tied her to the mast. “See here, honey,” he whispered, “I’ll save you if you promise to be mine.”
“Smee, is she tied?” roared Hood.
Lizzie hardly heard the Captain; she was looking at the Irish bo’sun Smee clad in breeches, buckled shoes and the traditional striped jersey of the pirate. It was not a ruddy red stripe but a familiar yellow and black. It was Conrad. She had thought she’d seen him before in Neverland and other dreams but there was no doubt this time. It was him.
“YOU, what are you doing here? Is this your doing?”
“Doing? My doing? I’m trying to save you here Lizzie. You’re in just a bit of a pickle aren’t you? You need my help. I can get you away. Come and sleep with me. Just one little fuck, that’s all I need.” He smiled in his ingratiating and, to Lizzie, odious way. He reached out and stroked her round breasts, touching her nipples. You know what will happen to you otherwise. You wouldn’t want the Hook would you?”
“Smee, stop pawing her.
Lizzie was tied facing the mast, her back and bottom exposed to the crew.
“A flogging before the plank,” cried Hook. It was not a cat-o-nine tails on poor Lizzie’s back but Hook’s school cane on her bare bottom cheeks. The sound was indeed ‘thwack’ as the Captain wielded the cane on Lizzie’s poor bottom. The crew cheered once more as each new red stripe appeared on those pretty cheeks. Trousers and breeches bulged and the occasional cock was even exposed and stroked at the sight.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come with me. Surrender to me. Join me?” whispered Smee. I can take you to a different and happy place where you can bathe and then we can make love so much more pleasantly. You need to fuck me. Come on, let’s leave here.”
“Smee, stop whispering to her or I’ll have you flogged. Tie her wrists and hoist her.” Lizzie’s wrists were tied and the rope thrown over a yard. The crew pulled on the rope and she was hoisted onto tiptoe. Hook began to undress. He removed his embroidered greatcoat covered in gold lace and jewels, his magnificent ruff and the rest of his courtly garments until he stood naked but for his tricorn hat. His white teeth shone as he smiled. She had not deigned to watch him undress but now her eyes were drawn to his face and then downward and she understood why he was called Hook. His cock did not follow the usual pattern. Instead of being straight or with a graceful curve, Hook’s turned sharply upwards half way along the shaft and then the head seemed almost to come a little way back on itself. It truly was a hook. Capt’n Hook laughed and the crew laughed with him.
“Pull her legs apart. Let’s see if young Tom has nicely moistened her.”
Two crew grabbed Lizzie’s ankles and pulled them apart. Hook thrust his left hand between her thighs and pushed a stubby finger up into her. “Ah, just right.” Withdrawing his hand Hook simply walked forward until his stomach touched Lizzie’s own, his peculiar upturned penis slipped between her thighs, its upturned head scraping across her clit, and finding no resistance its upturned head entered her with no apparent effort on Hook’s part. He let out a deep sigh of contentment.
“Let her down.”
The loss of tension on her arms meant Lizzie came heavily off her toes and hard down onto her feet. It also meant she came down hard on Hook’s cock forcing more of it into her, even the bend of the hook. She gasped.
“Pull.”
Lizzie was lifted back up again.
“Down.”
James Hook was using his crew to make Lizzie fuck him. His pearly teeth shone white as his hands moulded her breasts. Up and down the crew lifted Lizzie, one moment on the flat of her feet, the next on tiptoe. All the while pulled up and down Hook’s cock. It was exhausting and uncomfortable for Lizzie. Her hands tightly tied, her arms being pulled up hard by the rope and her sex invaded by a strangely shaped cock . There was no orgasm for Lizzie, but she felt the warm spurt as Hook roared and ejaculated into her. She found herself standing beside her bed, her hands raised up to the ceiling alternately rising onto her toes and back down again. She could still hear Smee, or rather Conrad, whispering, “You should have taken my offer but never mind. You will be mine. It just takes one fuck, just one...” With a cry she flung herself on her bed, trying to feel if her bottom really had been whipped. She could not feel any wheals but her sex was sopping as if it had been well used.