Chapter 2 Tinkerbelle’s training

Early on the morning of her second day aboard the Jolly Roger, Tink awoke to the first glimmers of sunlight peeking through the panes of the great stern cabin of the brigantine vessel. With a yawn and a stretch and a flutter of her wings, Tink arose and padded over the rough deck planks to the windows and peered outside. The sky was still purple with specs of blue and a yellow-gold stab of sunlight. Neverland’s two moons were visible on the horizon. Tink smiled, remembering the previous evening with her love, her captain, James Hook. He was Master of the vessel and Tink supposed that he was now her Master as well. A pleasant soreness still radiated outward from Tink’s sex and even that small awareness brought her nipples to full perk. Tink crossed her arms across her bosom and smiled towards the sea birds feeding in the bay.

Needing to pee, Tink left the cabin and strode towards the ship’s head, happy that most of the crew still was below decks, still sleeping off their ration of grog. A woman aboard a pirate ship could incite problems in the crew and no ships Master, and especially her Master needed problems. She’d have to get used to calling the dunny a head but there were a great many ship’s terms to learn and Tink was determined to do right by her Master and make him proud. Tink smiled at the irony that this ship’s head was on the poop deck and leaving the foul smelling closet, she skipped like a schoolgirl across the still darkened deck.

Suddenly, the muscled arms of a deckhand grabbed Tink and shoved her roughly against the foremast and covered her mouth with his filthy hands. A flood of revulsion struck Tink as her nostrils became invaded by smells of vomit, urine, fish, rum and creosote tar and she nearly puked into his palm. Her wings beat furiously as she tried to escape but with the mast tight to her back between her wings all they did was to fan the air. “Make no sound, wench!’ the brigand hissed through rotting teeth. “I aim to fill your cunny and then let you be if it pleases me to do so.” Terrified now, Tink struggled against him but the effort was useless. At only six-stone and eleven pounds, ninety-five pounds to some, she was no match for the stronger, larger twelve stone brute pinning her to the mast. He pressed his chest tight to hers to free his hands and the filthy sailor began fumbling with his ragged pants, freeing his wood. Tink never saw the fleshy pin coming at her but she felt it riding on her thigh as foul tasting lips mashed onto hers and Tink suppressed a gag. Tink fought her hardest but her assault looked inevitable when suddenly, the brute’s eyes rolled back in his head and he staggered backwards from her, blood gushing from the back of his head. As her field of vision expanded, Tink saw her Master, his good arm brandishing a belaying pin with a bloody end. Having backed up to the gunwale railing, the brigand, still unsteady on his feet, cursed and drew a flintlock pistol from his waist cincture and began raising it toward the Captain. Hook threw the belaying pin as one would a knife and Tink heard its whirling sound as the wooden pin tumbled end over end, the ten meters before it bashed the deckhand squarely between the eyes, knocking him over the railing, unconscious.

Tink began to sob and all color was gone from her face. Her beautiful soft blue eyes looked ashen, devoid of all sparkle. Hook rushed to hold Tink and prevent her from collapsing. “He..he…he tried…to…” she stammered.

“I know, just be quiet now, you’re safe. He’s off this ship forever.” Hook helped Tink to sit on the deck and compose herself. Voices came from where the man had gone overboard and Hook strode quickly to the rail. Nederland’s mermaids were the lifeguards of its seas and three of them had found the drowning sailor sinking towards the bottom and brought him still unconscious to the surface.

“Good Captain,” said the first of the mermaids, “We think one of your men met with misfortune. Would you throw down a line and haul him aboard before he succumbs to the seas?”

“Nay, friend-mermaids, there’s no place on my vessel for that scurvy brigand. If he can make it ashore on his own power and leave this place so be it. But he has no place here for he attacked my woman and tried to fuck her by force.” Horrified, the mermaids pushed away from the now semi-conscious man. Together, they watched in disgust as he paddled weakly towards shore. “Thank ye, good mermaids, “said Hook, “Maybe he’ll make shore and maybe the crabs and other bottom creatures will enjoy him, but no one here will miss or speak of him ever again.”

“What was his name?” a mermaid asked.

“What does it matter?” replied Hook.

With a polite wave the mermaids twirled in the sea and swam a good hundred meters before diving lest they again see this miserable man again. Hook bent and picked up the bloody belaying pin from the deck. He tossed the pin several inches in the air and easily caught it in his palm, feeling its heft. Blood and hair covered one end of the pin and Hook wanted no tiny part of this man aboard his ship and so he dropped the pin overboard to sink to the bottom where it belonged.

Returning to Tink, Hook extended a hand, helping her to her feet. “Are ye fit to return to my cabin,” he asked. Seeing her nod, he said, “You’ve much to learn about being a woman aboard a ship, especially a ship of brigands and thieves and worse.” “This morning could have gone quite badly for you.” “You’ve much to learn about being my woman as well but I will teach you.” “You are a willful girl, Lightning Bug, and I will teach you to be properly submissive.”

“Yes, James, I want to learn to please you.”

“James?” Hook asked his eyebrow arched smartly. “You may call me James in my bunk and nowhere else; not in my cabin, or my decks or in port. “ “Only in my bunk may you use a familiar name.” Otherwise, I am Master, or Captain. “In my cabin, I am either of those or “My Lord, or My Love.”

“Yes, my lov…., Yes Master,” Tink corrected herself.

Take yourself to my cabin and straddle the rail until I get there. “My First Mate, Mr. Smee will bring you food.” “He is friendly but you are not to speak to him and you are not to pleasure yourself on my rail unless I am there to see it.”

“Am I safe with Mr. Smee,” Tink asked. “Aye, he’s a good man but an old one. “ “His cock hasn’t stood proud since you were a child.” “Go there and await me.” When you hear my approach, you are to leave the rail and kneel for my inspection.” “You are to be naked.” “Go now.” Hook turned on his heel and walked forward where sailors were beginning their day working the rigging and swabbing the decks of the previous night’s dew and bird droppings.

In Hook’s cabin, Tink wondered about removing her tunic. She was to be naked and kneeling for her Master’s inspection but until then she was to be straddling his railing. Was there enough time to hear his approach and still doff her tunic and be kneeling for him or did he mean for her to be naked on the rail. If she was naked on the rail, she’d be naked when Mate Smee brought her food. What to do? She pondered. Finally, she decided to straddle the rail and await Smee and then undress while on the rail after he left. Although Tink’s sex was still sore from yesterday’s ride on the rail, as her Master once called it and of course, from their mating but she bore the pain as a matter of pride. This was, after all, part of Master’s love for her, his purifying her defects. Gingerly, she settled onto the rail, cautious to avoid forward or backward motion that would cause splinters to pierce. Her body, after all, must be perfect for her Master.

After about forty minutes on the rail a soft knock on the door and in walked a short, plump be speckled man wearing a red stocking cap and a blue striped shirt that was at least two sizes too small to cover his rotund belly. “Hoy-hoy Miss,” he called in a singsong voice, your food is here.” Seeing Tink nearly impaled on the rail he paused, blanched and said, “Arrgh, Miss that’s gonna leave you one sore split-tail that’s fer sure.” I’m Smee, and your food is here.

Smee handed Tink a small pail with a generous portion of oat porridge, two apples, a crust of bread and a jug of water. “We gets sweet water while in port. At sea, the water goes bad in about a week and we live on wine.” Tink thanked Smee for her meal and he looked again at her sweet suffering and said, “Well Miss I’ll leave you to your morning.” Tink smiled and soon Smee was gone.

Quickly then, Tink got out of her tunic and folded it carefully lest her Master return soon. In that fashion she ate her meal, wasting nothing. Only minutes after Tink completed her meal she hears her Master’s voice and his approaching footsteps. Quickly, she threw her leg stiffly and painfully across the rail and she knelt at the foot of Hook’s bunk, head bowed and eyes downcast. She longed to look upon her Master’s face and see his reaction to her readiness for him but she knew better than to be impatient. Hook entered and smiled to himself. “You’re learning, Lightning Bug,” he said gently and he patted Tink’s head and rubbed her shoulders lightly. Tink’s heart leapt at his touch!

“I suppose you need my ointment jar again to salve your saddle little one.” Tink looked up at him and nodded. “Very well Girl, go now and fetch it, but next time, I’ll let you know when to open your eyes.”

Tink got the salve and Hook directed her onto her cot. “Use the salve well my child.” “Amuse me.” Tink blushed at her nakedness while her legs spread wide for her to apply ointment all under the watchful gaze of her Master. Still though, the familiar tingling began and her vagina became very wet and she could almost feel her lips swelling. “Aye, Girl, work it in good,” Hook goaded. From within his coat, Hook produced a belaying pin pulled from a pinrail on his way to his cabin. He began goading Tink’s labia with the iron pin. She became frightened for the pin was a good three centimeters in diameter and a third of a meter long. “Put a little ointment on this pin Girl. Tink obeyed and asked if this was the same pin that had saved her earlier that day. “No My Sweet, “Hook said, I’ve consigned that one to Davy Jones locker. This one shall remain here for our use. The iron pin was smooth and its temperature began to match her own and the pressure on her labia grew intense. Still, Tink worried about being penetrated with this huge thing but she had little choice but to trust in her Master. If he would impale her, she would be impaled. Hook began to gently enter Tink with the iron pin and he moved it slowly and gently, in and out with only about two centimeters inside her at first. Tink began to squirm on her cot as the pleasure began to overtake her senses. A soft moan escaped her lips and Hook went in deeper, still a gentle motion. “Do you like this My Sweet?” Hook asked.

“Yes, My Love,” Tink answered and her hips took on a life beyond her control. Hook accelerated his assault on her vagina and soon he was fucking her hard and deep with the iron pin. Tink moaned shamelessly and her arms and legs flailed on the cot. She felt her orgasm coming but Hook ordered her not to release yet. “P-p-p-please, soon!’ Tink moaned. Hook smacked her thigh smartly for speaking out of turn but withdrew the pin and told her to move to his bunk while he undressed. Immediately, Tink hopped over to the bunk and spread wide for her Master. He entered her swiftly and his presence inside her thrilled Tink. Master was pleased and so was she. His cock was so much hotter than the belaying pin and so much more human. It was, after all, her Master’s fine cock and he would soon fill her with his seed! She vowed that she would bear any humiliation or any pain to please this man, the man who protected her from the assault of the brigand this morning. Soon, Tink felt Hook’s pace accelerate towards completion she saw his back stiffen and his teeth grit as the heat of his semen flooded her cervix. In that moment, she too felt the waves of contraction hit her like a broaching whale and she bit her lip so as not to scream.

When Hook withdrew, he ordered Tink to go to his wash basin and return to clean him and then herself. Tink immediately complied and she knelt at his bunk to wash and dry him reverently. His satisfied smile caused her heart to leap. “There’s another hole that you must learn to ready for me,” Hook said in due course. ‘He handed her the belaying pin and Tink looked at him intensely. You need to practice buggering yourself with this so that your bottom is ready for me when I desire it. Tink stared wide-eyed at the iron prick that had only recently filled her vagina with its hard metallic presence. In my drawer, there’s a different kind of salve in a blue jar. You must use the salve liberally and then move this pin in and out of your puckered , rosebud arse. Tink was clearly afraid and Hook saw that fear in her eyes. He also knew that Tink would do his bidding whatever he wished, for her desire to please him was stronger than her fears. This was a superior woman, wings or no wings.

Fingers trembling, Tink applied the salve to the pin and to her bottom. “Show me?” she asked her Master. Hook took the pin and pressed its end snugly against her.

“What’s best, Lightning Bug, is that you don’t push this into you.” “Instead, push against the pin with your bottom until it finds its way inside you; then move it in and out, going a little deeper each few minutes. “ “You don’t need to take this whole pin inside you for it is longer than I am.” As a reward, if you find this making you reach your climax, you may do so freely so long as you are in your cot when it happens and you aren’t so noisy that the crew hears you.”

“Thank you Master, I’ll be as quiet as a mouse,” Tink said softly, although she couldn’t imagine reaching orgasm with this huge iron pin stuffed in her diminutive ass.

Tink began pushing against the iron pin. “Rock your body against it,” Hook directed. The pressure didn’t feel good or bad, just intense. Soon though she felt herself opening a bit and after several minutes of trying, she felt the handle end of the pin plop inside her. There was a feeling of fullness and mild discomfort like needing to use the dunny, but it wasn’t exactly painful either and her master’s eyes were glazed in lust so this must be good. “Take it now, and work it until you’re comfortable. “ I want you to do this every morning for at least a week to prepare yourself for me. “Tink rocked her body against the invading iron prick and soon she realized that there was an intense tingling deep inside her vagina. Somehow this huge bar up her ass was making her moan in lust. Her clitoris swelled and her labia became hugely engorged. Tink couldn’t help herself and her free hand found her clit and thrashed furiously as she pumped iron into her now hungry rectum. Tink looked at her Master who was beside himself in lust and stroking his cock to match her speed and intensity. Tink felt an orgasm rising within her and from her cot she could see that her Master’s balls were tightening for his release. His seed flooded out from his cock like a jet and it landed across her sweating body from her shoulder to her breast and down her body. With that Tink felt her own release coming and her eyes closed involuntarily and she pumped like a woman possessed.

Afterwards, Tink’s hand fell from the iron pin and it slowly withdrew. The experience felt like using the dunny but Tink knew it was just the iron leaving her body. “Did that please you,” asked Hook.

Yes, Master, thank you.”

“It pleased me too, to watch and to direct you.” “Please clean us both up and then kneel here. “ Tink quickly washed her Master and then herself and positioned herself on her knees at the foot of his bunk. Hook removed a small bag from the coat hanging over the rail. “I had something made for you,” Hook said, removing a small strap from the bag. “I’ve had a collar made for you to wear.” “If I’m to be your Master, you must have this to show that you are under my protection.” “Do you understand me?”

“Yes Master, I think so,” Tink said, her voice quivering in excitement. The collar was a simple leather strap with buckles that would secure the strap at the back of her neck. At the front was a small gold hook, a replica of the iron hook at the end of her Master’s arm. “Oh My loving Master!’ Tink gushed, her eyes filled with tears.

“So you’ll wear it?” Hook asked. “I’ll treasure wearing it! “ Said Tink. Hook brought the soft leather band around her neck and buckled the strap snugly but comfortably about her slender neck. Overjoyed, and overcome, the tears flooded Tink’s cheeks and streamed down her face. Genuinely moved, Hook dried her tears and kissed her tenderly. Get some rest and then return to your training my sweet Lightning Bug,” Hook said before returning to his ship’s duties.

Tink rested, her fingers tracing the hook on her collar and savoring her good fortune. Yes, her vagina and her bottom were sore and yes, there were many more corrections in store for her as her training plied its course, but Tink felt loved, protected and secure. Tink remembered her crush on Peter Pan and realized that a girlish crush meant nothing. She was a woman now. A woman in love.