A Proper Education

Chapter Three: Ingratitude

"No, but–"

"You are lacking supervision, Miss Darling," he interrupted. "If you do not take care, you could become an ill-mannered wild child who will never be accepted into proper society." He leant down, his cock pressing against her stomach, his hair forming a curtain around their faces, inches between them. "You should be thankful that I am trying to spare you that fate."

His hook dug into her arm, pressing it into the ground. She could barely breathe under his weight.

"What do we do when people do kind things for us?" he asked patronizingly.

Breath shallow, Wendy whispered, "We thank them."

"Good girl," he murmured, sitting up so she could breathe comfortably again. He moved his hips so his cock slid over a spot that made her shiver. "And I knew exactly how you can show me how thankful you are."

He got up off of her, holding her arm tightly in his hand. He dragged her toward the fire and sat on the log again. She was compliant as he positioned her to stand between his legs, but resisted slightly as he forced her to her knees. The fire was directly behind her, heat strong against her back.

"If you try to get out of this," he said. "You will hurt yourself. Show your gratitude like a proper young lady and you will go unheard and improved."

She nodded shakily.

He began to pull at the laces of his breeches, and she shifted back a bit. At the feeling of the searing heat from the fire, she rethought this action and moved forward again.

His cock sprung loose from his breeches, and he groaned. Wendy took one glance at the stiff length and then resolutely focused her gaze on his chest, refusing to look at it.

"Give me your hand," he said firmly.

She shook her head, clasping her arms behind her back. Hook took a moment to look at her in that position. Tying her up was added to his list. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled it forward. Forcing her fingers open, he brought her hand toward his cock. She struggled, eyes still averted. He quickly stopped her resistance by tightening his grip on her hand until she whimpered.

"Don't hurt yourself," he said. She let her arm go limp. He placed her hand on his cock and curled her fingers around it. His hips twitched when he saw how her short childlike fingers did not come near to going all the way around it. He clenched his large hand over hers and pulled one firm stroke.

God, he needed her. He grunted a moved her hands up and down again. He closed his eyes.

"Other hand," he grunted. When he did not feel it, he looked at her. She was staring, terrified and still, at his face. "Good deeds require thanks, Miss Darling," he said, putting his hook around her other arm. "Thank me."

Her hand trembled as she reached for him. When she wrapped her fingers around him without further instruction, he whispered, "Good girl."

Two hands around him now, he upped the tempo moving her hands up and down his length. Once she got the hang of it, he let go. "Keep going," he told her, and she obeyed, working her hands over his length.

He reached out and tipped her head up. "Look at me." She obeyed, opening her eyes to look into his.

"Faster," he said and she increased speed, breathing heavily now with the effort. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, voice strained.

"To thank you," she said, out of breath.

"For what, Miss Wendy?"

"For educating me."

"How did I do that?"

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the memory. "By punishing me." She looked back up at him.

His hips were moving down, snapping up against her hands. "Do you want to be punished?"

She hesitated.

"Wendy," he snapped, desperate. "Do you want to be punished?"

"When I do things wrong," she said carefully.

His hand moved from her face to her neck, slowly squeezing her throat.

"Yes, yes," she gasped, hands faltering in their rhythm. "I want to be punished."

He closed his eyes. He was so close. "By whom?" he grunted, fingers tightening.

"By you!" she squeaked, hands clenching tighter around him in her anguish. He pumped into her grip a few more times and then he was coming. Hard. He groaned, loud and long, the movement of his hips rhythmless.

Wendy made a small surprised sound and he opened his eyes. She still held him, and her hands were covered in his seed. She pulled them away, moving to wipe them on his breeches, but he grabbed one wrist.

"Don't," he said breathlessly. Her face was clean. He wanted desperately to see it soiled. Her lips were slightly parted. He wanted desperately to–

He took a breath. All in good time.

Hook looked at her hand, the soft skin dripping with him. "Come back to the Jolly Roger with me," he said.

"What?" she breathed.

"To continue your education," he said. "To learn how to be a proper lady."

She looked up at him and Hook saw conflict in her expression. He took out a handkerchief and whipped her hands clean. He put himself away and laced up his breeches. Then he stood, pulling Wendy to her feet.

"Think about it, Miss Darling," he said. "It is your decision. You're a clever young woman; I trust you to make the right choice."

Then he pulled on his coat. With a flourish of his feathered hat, he bowed to her. "Have a lovely evening, Miss Darling," he said.

Wendy watched him go, feet rooted to the ground. The fire still crackled and her heart beat wildly. She had that feeling again, the uncomfortable one that made her clench her thighs together. For reasons she could not fathom, she found herself seriously considering his offer.