Strange banging in the Night
By: Date: 2022.08.08. Categories: Just Wife Stories,Sex Stories Tags: , , , ,

Wendy woke in the middle of the night when the sounds of the
jungle changed. She was always a light sleeper, having minded
the boys during their bouts against the cold and grippe.

She still heard the night birds and small animals scurrying about
but there was a new sound, a murmuring and sort of a sigh. She
threw a blanket over her shoulders and went to find Peter but he
was not in the Boy’s tent. She went to find Tiger Lily in the
Indian village but she was not there either.

As she walked back to the boy’s hideout she heard the sounds
more clearly again.

In the clearing, lighted by the bright silvery moon she saw Peter
bent over Tiger Lily as if he were trying to bump her along as she
knelt on her hands and knees. Wendy crept slowly over to the
edge of the woods and realized that the moans and chuffing noises
were coming from them. In fact she could see that Peter’s doodle
was stiff and long, just like her brothers’ when they awoke in the
morning needing to relieve themselves. But Peter’s doodle was much
bigger than the boys’ were the last time she saw them. AND,
Peter’s doodle was partly stuck in Tiger Lily’s fanny.

Wendy was indignant! She had seen rude boys mistreat girls in
the street, catcalling at the least and making rude remarks or even
grabbing at shopgirls as they passed. But she thought Peter was
gentle and, though a little unruly, not given toward abuse.

Full of fury she ran toward them.

“What are you doing to her? Don’t you hurt Tiger lily!”

Tiger Lily turned her head up toward Wendy and her countenance
flushed from pleasure – grew dark with anger and embarrasment.

“Peter’s not hurting me silly girl, he’s giving me pleasure. Now go
away!” The Indian princess panted as if she, not Wendy, were the
one that had been running.

Wendy was stopped short, speechless.

She could now see that Peter’s doodle was sliding in and out of
Tiger Lily’s little crack, not her No. 2 hole as Wendy had feared.

Strange! she thought, I have a little hole there too but I know it is
not nearly big enough to admit that big thing. She turned to leave
satisfied that despite the huffing and moaning, neither were in
danger. After a few steps she realized she was curiously tingly as
if witnessing a great secret.

“What ARE you doing?” she turned and asked.

“We are F-U-U-UCK-I-ING, Gull Dropping-ng. Now le-leave us!”

Wendy had been flattered at first that her Indian sister had
honored her with a tribal name which she assumed to be in
reference to her rather ungainly landing on arriving at Never-
Never Land, but now she heard it as the next thing to an insult.
Determined to uncover the mystery here, she persisted.

“What is fucking? Is it a secret Indian ritual? Why are you doing
it here and why are you poking my spirit sister with your doodle Peter?
And why do you have to do it so hard?

Wendy was thinking of questions faster than she could voice
them, let alone allow time to answer. Peter and Tiger Lily
ignored her totally. He leaned over and whispered something in
Tiger Lily’s ear and suddenly stopped and withdrew his doodle
from Tiger Lily’s cranny who rose onto her knees pivoted and
pushed Peter onto his back

In the bright moonlight she saw that Peter’s doodle was still
hard and it glistened and seamed throbbed as Tiger Lily threw the leather
jerkin off her shoulders and, totally naked, sat right down on
Peter’s face.

“Oh, don’t do that you’ll smother him! I’m sure he didn’t mean to
poke you with his thing!”

“Go away, Splat-on-the-rock” said Tiger Lily between huffing
gasps, “He is sucking my pussy. I want him to and I don’t want
you around to bother us anymore.”

“O-o-oh! He’s licking where you tinkle? How unsanitary and I’m
sure it’s not at all nice.”

Wendy was now on solid moral ground.

“Peter.. that’s why you need a mother! You should come back
with us and my mother will teach you not to put your tongue in
girls’ crannies.”

Wendy had a second thought.. “Well not unless you grow up to be
a respected physician like Dr. Levengood, then it would be alright.
He can use his tongue as a fever thermometer.”

Both Tiger Lily and Peter stopped their passionate sucking and
and turned to look at her with quizzical expressions.

“Well I saw him do that with Mother but she said she was feeling
ill and the Doctor was just taking her temperature and he had forgot his
bag when he paid a social call and was nice enough to examine
her. Well I asked her why he couldn’t just put his tongue in her
mouth instead of her cranny and Mother just gave me that “Oh,
silly you!’ look and said she had just had a cold drink and the Doctor was
in a hurry and of course I know that you sometimes take body
temperature instead of mouth to get a more accurate reading; but I
guess mother had a very hard to diagnose condition because he had
just stuck his doodle in Mother’s cranny and I didn’t even
have to ask! It just makes good sense that a doodle is much more
sensitive to temperature than a tongue.”

“Peter, are you and Tiger Lily playing Doctor and Nurse? That’s
ingenious the way you and Tiger Lily are practicing. Is it true
that your doodle is more sensitive to temperature than your
tongue? Does she have a fever? She looks a little feverish to me.
No, Tiger Lily you shouldn’t suck on the thermometer you’ll cause
a false reading.”

” Tiger Lily, do you know You have more hair on your cranny
than my mother does? I hardly have any but my mother says I will
if I ever grow up. She said not to tell Father about it. About Dr.
taking her temperature with his tongue, that is. She didn’t want to
worry him, I suppose. I told her I wouldn’t say a word (just as I
didn’t tell her about Daddy having to spank her upstairs maid with
a Birch stick!). She must have very bad. I mean the Maid. He
made her take her bloomers off and bend over the sofa and he
must have struck her with so much force so that her buttons
popped and her bosoms fell out which was more curious because
at the same same time his braces came unclasped and his trousers
dropped down around his knees. Father was very angry at me for
bursting into his study to ask a question without knocking.”

“I mean I don’t have to knock to ask a question, he just likes me to
knock before I go into his study. Especially when he is
disciplining the maid.”

“I said I was sorry that I didn’t knock and he said alright but I
shouldn’t mention it to mother because she would be upset at
having to get a new maid and I understood that, Father and
Mother argue about hiring new maids all the time. I think Maria,
she’s the last maid and the one I saw Father spank has learned her
lesson is the best we’ve had.. She’s very nice to me and Mother
and Father seem quite happy with her. ”

” Now Heinz, the new footman, is a different matter. He’s
German and blonde, you know. He’s quite good looking but
stubborn and that vexes Mother; She’s always having to instruct
him privately in his duties. I overheard her say to Lady
Cuspbottom that Heinz was much too full of himself.. and that she
was going to have to help him empty some of it. Lady
Cuspbottom just laughed”

“I don’t like Lady Cuspbottom, she is always laughing at things
that aren’t funny. I wish she would leave me alone, she’s always
asking how things are at our house. And even when I tell her
little things that aren’t consequential at all, like the men had to
come and repair the rose trellis from when the Rev. Mr. Flomm
fell from it with a chamberpot stuck on his foot and it had to be
surgically removed, (the rose trellis, from the Rev Mr Flomm that
is) because pieces of the trellis and rose thorns got splintered into
his behind and it was a good thing Father had just gotten back
from a business trip early and arrived just as it happened ’cause if
he had been gone as long as planned, the Rev Mr Flomm might
have bled to death from the splinters or frozen from having the
trousers torn off him in the fall (I saw them myself hanging from
the trellis just outside the guest bedroom).”

” Well when I tell Lady Cuspbottom little things like that and she
laughs or giggles and walks off quickly to talk to other ladies in
whispers (which isn’t polite either you know), It upsets me
because it might be minor but someone could have been badly
injured and that’s certainly no laughing matter. As is the fact that
we no longer attend St. Aldemere’s and go to a low service at St
Swithins instead. Father was really very angry about his roses, I
suppose.”

Peter and Tiger Lily were now standing and straightening their
clothes and dusting themselves off. Peter’s doodle wasn’t stiff
anymore and Tiger Lily’s face looked like it had a storm cloud
wrapped around it but that didn’t deter Wendy from being more
helpful.

” But to be brief, Peter, if you came to live with us you would
learn sophisticated things and grow up a citizen of the World, like
me.”
The two did not say a word but continued to the Indian Village
and stepped into Tiger Lily’s tipi, snapping the flap sharply
behind them.
Wendy remained outside haranguing the two on how it didn’t look
proper for Peter to be in Tiger Lily’s tipi after dark without a
chaperon. Which she volunteered to be, except maybe Peter
should be getting his sleep instead of pestering Tiger Lily.

After narrowly ducking a war club thrown from the general
vicinity of the Chief’s tipi accompanied by a bellowed order to
shutup or get her hair parted with a tomahawk, Wendy gave up
and started back along the path to the Boys’ area.

She had gone but a few steps when she heard a snapping sound
behind her, turned and immediately a hand holding a rag with a
sharply pungent odor was clapped over her mouth and nose.

The mouth restrained.
Wendy awoke with a splitting headache and strangely stiff and
unresponsive limbs which she shortly discovered was due to her
wrists and ankles having been fastened somehow to the lower
corners of a large sea chest over which she was rather
undignifiedly draped, in a dank, dark room. Her discomfort
increased as she tried to move and found herself pricked by
splinters and nail-heads as she struggled to free herself from the
facedown position.

“Help, I can’t move and I’m very uncomfortable!” She cried. But
there was noone there to hear her.

Presently a small door opened and a rotund little man with a
round pockmarked face and a runny nose approached her carrying
a silver tray on which was tea service for one and a biscuit.

“Care for Tea, Roger?” He spoke through his small slit-mouth that
was perfectly lined with small, rotten-looking teeth.

‘My name is Smee and I’m glad to make your acquaintance, thank
you.” He set down the tray on the floor below her head and
smiled at her.
“I always like to greet the new boys as soon as possible after they
are captured.” He danced a little jig and wiped his nose on his
sleeve.
“I don’t know what you are talking about” Wendy rejoined severly.
“My name is Wendy, not Roger and I am a girl not a boy.”

“Hee, Hee; Haww- Haw!” Spoke Smee. “A witty one!”
Wendy had no idea what he meant by that crack.
“Well enjoy your tea, Roger.” Smee spoke over his shoulder as he
left. “Ill be back shortly with the rest of the mottley crew for your
initiation. ”
“But… wait! Im tied hand and foot and what do you mean by….”

But the slamming of the door cut her off and she lapsed into
silence and pondered again the meaning and possible outcome of
this predicament.

Chapter, the Twoth – Our Heroine in Periline
She must have fallen asleep, for when she woke, there was a
definite sense that time had passed and that something had died in
this room… and not recently.
As her senses returned to consciousness she quickly surmised that,
instead of a rotting corpse, the room was occupied by pirates.
“Good Morning Roger,” Smee chortled. “Its almost sundown and
as soon as the Captain gets here and leaves, we’ll start the
initiation.”
Of course Wendy had much to ask about that statement, but before
she could open her mouth the door flew open and a bold, broad-
shouldered figure loomed in the red-glow of the backlit hatch.

“Hey, Alright! A babe!”
The attention of the crew was diverted as they all turned to the
cabin door to regard the tall newcomer. His blue eyes and
beardless face projected pleasure.
” Nay, Cap’n Sir. ‘e’s near full grown.”

” Smee, you mental quadriplegic; I mean she’s a chick. A toss. A
girl.”

Captain Hook was not at all as Wendy had expected. His hair was
long, blonde and straight. and the presence of both hands made
her wonder if she had heard right.
“Y- You_ You are the famous Captain Hook?”
“In all my gnarliness!”
Wendy took that for affirmative.
“But the stories say you lost your hand to a Crocodile…”
“Naw, Bullshit. I got my hook from a crock, that’s all.. Just
stories get tortured when they’re repeated too many times by
people who don’t have the skinny.”

He walked toward the bound maiden, snapped his fingers and one
of the crew produced a small chair.

“See, I was boardin’ on the walk at Venice Beach one day and had
my eye on this bitchin’ babe with humongous knockers and an ass
that wouldn’t quit and, horny as I am, had a rod like a flagpole.
My jams were tented out like I had the bowsprit in my pocket,
when; Bam! I crack into this big tree urn and almost bit the big
one.”

Wendy, of course, was not comprehending half of what Hook was
saying but to avoid appearing stupid nodded sagely.

“Anyway I wake up in the Hospital, and the first thing I notice is
my dong hurts like Hell and there’s a big bandage wrapped around
it. Well I split that soon’s I got some sidewalk snake to give me a
ride and, wouldn’t you know it, she runs smack into the back of a
semi. Last thing I saw in L.A. was that bigass steel bumper
headin’ for me at light speed. Next thing I knew I was spread out
on a board lookin up at Peter Pan’s ugly mug.”

“Anyway, them assholes in Pans camp started all the time makin’
fun of me cause my cock’s cocked and I soon had enough of that
scene and split to the ship here. Some dude named Redbeard was
the head cheese then and he got pissed off at me once and told me
he was gonna cut my worthless cock off. Well, I almost made
Blackbelt and when that slimebucket came at me with that sword,
I lost it and went into Tasmanian Devil Mode. I was cool, I was
great, I did everything but spank his ass with his own sword and
he never showed his face around here again.”

“By the way, what do you call yourself?”
“My name is Wendy and I demand that you free me and return me
to the Lost Boys camp at once.!”
“Ho!” Chortled Hook. “You call yourself ‘your Majesty’ I see.”
He unscabbered his sword and flipped up the hem of Wendy’s
dress over her waist exposing the top of 10 layers of petticoat.”
“Smee! Cut through that lace curtain stuff and see if the chick’s
got buns under there.”
“I assure you sir, I have no pastry on my person and you will be
severely dealt with when I am rescued.”

Wendy would have cried if she were a normal girl but she was the
oldest and she had learned to present the stoic character of the
stolid middle class. Besides she just realized that her bladder was
near to bursting and her concern over the embarrassment of
wetting herself if she didn’t get relief soon outweighed her dire
predicament otherwise.
“Please show me the necessary, the need is imminent.” She
requested plainly.
“Huh?” replied Hook.
The ever-helpful Smee bounded up and whispered in the Captain’s
ear.
“He has to pee, sir. Make water, piss, tinkle, drain the lizard,
water the grass, sprinkle the …”
Hook cuffed Smee’s ear and bowed deeply to the now purple faced
captive.

“Please excuse me all-to-heck for not seeing to your comfort,
Milady!” He turned to another swarthy lieutenant, this one so tall
he had to stoop under the planking of the overhead.
“Bilyus! Take her topside, prop her ass on the rail and let her
water the Gar.”
Wendy’s attitude toward this was mixed; she certainly didn’t want
this hulk to watch her private doings but she was wary of making
too many demands and she needed to go BADLY.
“Please allow me to function without being watched by him,
Captain.”
“Very well” said he in another sweeping bow ” Bilyus, turn
your back to her while she pisses. The rest of you remain below.”

Bilyus made short work of the ropes and trundled the quaking girl
topside sitting her carefully on the rail. Wendy looked across the
water and saw that there was little chance of her being seen from
the shore as it was twilight. Adjusting her clothes awkwardly she
bared herself and with great relief cut loose a stream that seemed
never to finish. So great was her relief when she finished that
she uncustomarily relaxed herself and broke wind in such force
that she looked toward Bilyus who still had his back turned and
she thought she saw the beginning of a smile. Oh, well she
thought, there was only him and most of these yokels think I am a
boy anyway and boys are always breaking wind. She began to
cover herself, still perched on the rail.
“Cor! Yer right, Teeley, hit ain’t got no cock’n’bowls!”
Wendy looked down quickly and saw, to her mortification, six or
seven disheveled, dirty, grinning faces staring up at her from the
gun ports.

A Sister Missed!
Meanwhile, Wendy had been missed at the camp, mainly because
it was wakeup time (11:am; the boys always thought that all the
Sun that happened before they woke was a waste so somehow the
Sun always rose at 10:30 and set at Midnight which gave them a
few hours to play night games before retiring) and Breakfast
wasn’t fixed.
“John have you seen Wendy?” Peter asked her oldest brother.
“When?”
“This morning.” Peter said vexedly. This happened everytime
John was asked a question, he could never answer without full
qualification and usually people just gave up and went away.
Which meant that John seldom if ever divulged anything.
“Here, in the Camp. Or outside the camp. Wearing clothes, or
naked or partially naked. Walking or sitting or standing, or
standing on her head. Have you seen your sister at all?”
“No.”
“Has anyone seen Wendy?”
“I have” volunteered Tip-Top. “She’s about 5 feet, 1 and six stone
and she wears a pretty bow in her hair.”
It was evident that John had a few admirers among the more
deficient camp boys.
Just then a bright flick of light arced into the clearing from above
the trees and straight into the mirror that hung on the tree outside
Peter’s hut.

“Ouch!” cried a tiny voice as the pixie, her glow greatly dimished
by the impact, picked herself out of the weeds and buzzed
erratically up to Peter’s shoulder. She leaned over saucily and
whispered something in Peter’s ear.
“She is?”
Another whisper.
“They are?”
The pixie buzzed off his shoulder and nodding energetically,
hovered about a foot in front of Peter’s nose.
“well, tell them about it.”
In a burst of light, streaming fairy glow, she streaked to the
treetops above the clearing and paused, took a deep breath and
with her hands cupped around her mouth bellowed loud enough to
topple dead trees on the next island;
“PETER’S FUCKING TIGER LILY!”
Peter just missed her with the rock.
“Jealous bitch!” He muttered as Thunder Bulb streaked away to
sulk for another few days .

****
Peter was highly pissed that few of the boys, even her own
brothers, were interested in rescuing Wendy from the dastardly
Pirates.
“Good, maybe my nose will heal” said John-John. “She keeps the
thing raw from constantly wiping it for me.”
“Yeah, same with MY BUM!” chimed little Michael.
“There has to be a pay-off!” said Mark sagely. “She’s worth 5 gold
doubloons if she’s worth a penny!”
“I will pay no ransom!” proclaimed Peter, his chest swelled with
pride and determination.
“Hell, I mean don’t take her back for less than 5.” Mark replied
with a withering look.
“Oh yeah, good point.” Peter admitted sheepishly.

The Plot Thickens… well – gets more elaborate anyway.

The plan was worked out and after asking the Indians for help
was swiftly put into motion.
“Walking Bear, you take your braves and cover the North end of
the harbor, Mark will take some of the boys and cut off escape to
the east and we’ll go out to the ship and negotiate.” Peter nodded
toward Tiger Lily and John.
“Remember, don’t let them get within 50 yards of the shore or
they’ll just throw her overboard and we’ll have to save her without
getting a farthing put of them.”

Peter waited until they were only 30 yards from the ship.
“Halllooo! The ship.” He called.
In a few minutes Smee popped his head over the railing and
scurried away.
“Whass happnin’, Pan?” Hook leaned nonchalantly against the
rail.
“You have someone from our camp, Hook” Peter rejoined with
bravado.
“So?”
“So we brought her things.” Peter held up her robe and slippers
and reticule and tossed them to Hook.
Hook was speechless for a minute.
“You mean I got this perfectly good babe of yours and you’re just
gonna chill?”
“Whatever you say, Hook.” Peter swung the skiff around and
started to shore.
Crazy Punk! thought Hook as he turned and started below where
Wendy was just getting to the foreskin-swabbing part of her
personal hygiene instruction.

A full day had passed and Wendy was beginning to worry. She
wondered why there had been no attempt to rescue her. When she
went on deck in the afternoon she thought she had seen movement
on the shore and when she strained to see, she was sure it was one
of the boys from the camp. When the boy saw her watching him
he dove behind a bush.
Hook invited her to dinner and she reluctantly accepted because as
much as she detested Hooks swaggering manner, the others
simply gave her chills up her spine.

After a strange three course meal consisting of a smooth skinned
sausage smothered by some red tart tasting sauce and enclosed in
a roll split lengthwise and strips of fried potato again smothered
in the red stuff, followed by a revolting pastry that was iced with a
tasteless pink frosting and stuffed with an equally bland white
filling, Hook leaned back and lit a strange little warped cigarette
and regarded her in silence.

“Please sir it is not nice to stare.” Wendy began to squirm.
“Ooops, sorry! Didn’t mean to bother ya’ Ma’am.”
“Why are you holding me captive?”
“Tell ya’ truth, I’m not sure anymore. We aren’t used to havin’ a
mother and we sure’s hell don’t need a schoolteacher so what good
are you except maybe for a little wickdippin’.” He looked at her
again. “Tho’ yer a little old for my taste.”
Wendy had assimilated quite a bit of the salty vernacular in her
short time on the ship but hadn’t heard that term though in
context she had an idea of what it meant. She WAS indignant!

“I BEG your pardon! What do you mean “OLD”? Do you assault
infants?”
Hook laughed. “I mean look in the mirror babe.” You don’t
exactly look like fresh stuff, though I hear that some old maids are
really choice once they get a taste.”
Wendy stood and walked to the chiffarobe mirror and was
horrified at what she saw. She looked like her mother except she
was somehow drier looking, the hair was pulled back in a severe
bun and small spectacles had somehow perched themselves on the
end of her nose. She looked down and realized that she couldn’t
see her waist for the swelling roll of her bust.
“Wh-a-a-at Haaapppened to Me-e-e-!” She wailed.
“Nothin’. I sure’s hell didn’t do whatever you’re wailin’ about!”
“B-b-but I’m OLD!”
“Don’t see’s you look any older than when you come on board.
You do look like you’re about twenty five and that’s about right for
a good schoolteach.”
“But I’m only FIFTEEN!” Wendy now broke down and bawled.
Hook broke into uncontrolled laughter.
“Wha-What-What is so funny?”she screeched.
Hook looked at her with a slight glint of pity.
“You didn’t understand didya?”
He shook his head.
“Here in the enchanted land of Mehd you are whoever you act like
you are. You don’t even have to WANT to be a certain person,
you just have to ACT like him, or her in your case, and you ARE
that person.
She looked at him in disbelief.
“No shit, lady! How do you think a fourteen year old kid named
Arim Goldstein looks like this?”

“But I know you saw me as young when I was tied up in the hold,
you called me a babe, don’t you remember?”
“Could have, and no I don’t. I only remember what changes I have
made. For all I know you might be Smee, decided to be a
Schoolmar’m lady.”
Wendy shuddered at the distinct possibility.
“You see, its confusing enough without having to remember what
everyone else has been and said so the time warp just erases
everything in the past except the subjects memory of it. So for all
you know I might have been Pan and He might have been
Redbeard and we changed places. Except I guarantee I wasn’t
Pan, I don’t know where Redbeard went so you’ll have to ask Pan
about that.”
Hook stroked his gray-streaked beard and took a puff from his
pipe.
“May I offer you a brandy?”
“Well my mother … ” Wendy looked in the mirror again. There
was something different. Yes the glasses were gone. She looked
back at the distinguished looking Hook and marveled that such a
scholar would get involved with a scurvy lot such as these pirates.
She brushed back her lustrous black curls and accepted.
“My dear,” Hook took her hand.” I have admired you from afar
and I must be brash and ask if I might call on you.”
“Oh Sir, you flatter me so!” She blushed. She felt the changes
happen almost instantly. Now she was an attractive vital young
woman, filled with the spark of life and the urge to.., to do what?
End of Part One
***

AND NOW ….
The Final Episode of
“Wendy does Dull-ass!”

Peter was facing a rebellion by the boys. The older lads, led by
Mark, had changed their tunes about rescuing Wendy. Mark and
several others suddenly realizing that Wendy had ONE good side
to her , she had fixed the only really satisfying meals that Mark
could remember since the boys had strung up Old Coddlethwaite
because he couldn’t keep his hands off their private parts.

“Hell, Peter; I know I said that we should wait until Hook got
desperate.” He sat on a stump outside his tent and rolled a joint.
“Thing is, Wendy’s got those guys on the ship taking baths!” He
took in Peter’s look of incredulity and smiled wanly. “Yep! Tip-
top and Howling Eagle both saw a bunch of ’em splashing water
all over each other.”
Peter took on a glum look.
” Shit! Once those guys realize they don’t have to itch and scratch
themselves raw and fight to stay upwind of each other…. Who
knows what they’ll talk Hook into?”

Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then quickly jumped up and
ran to the little mirror on the tree outside his tent.
“Stubble!” He cried ” Hair’s growing on my chin!”

He turned to Mark in a near panic.
“That’s it.” He sobbed “I gotta go talk to Chief Passatoke!”

******************

By the time Peter got to the Chief, Passatoke had already heard
about Peter’s horrid awakening.
He sat the sobbing Pan down at his campfire and passed him some
of his reserve Peruvian.
Peter took a deep draught and held it.
“I hear you’ve seen the truth, my boy.” the chief said quietly.
Peter released the smoke and quietly replied…
“Hell, Chief, It’s not that we don’t all know in the back of our
minds that it’s just a dream but we’re always sure that we can keep
up the game..”

“It’s that girl!” said Passatoke, “I knew the minute she came here
that she was going to mess things
up..She had the very same look as the first white-eye I ever saw.”
He took out another paper and began to roll a second joint.
“Yep! That old ‘I’m here to save your soul’ look. The first time I
saw it was on some old biddy getting off a square-rigger at
Plymouth.”

“After a year of trying to reason with those missionaries that we
was already saved cause we knew we owed our whole lives to the
benevolence of the Great Spirit and then arguing with them about
our rights as indigenous peoples under the forthcoming UN
charter agreement, some of us cats just gave up and, as our Aussie
brothers say, “went walkabout’.”

Pan had heard the story many times but the old chief loved telling
it and it was reasonably short so he sat in abeyance.
“Yep, Not much to tell … We were on our way to the fabled
country called Cibola, Never got there but we got some of the
most righteous weed just across the big river and packed it all the
way to the high deserts of Navaho country.”
“Did a lotta meditating there on those buttes and we reached an
even higher plateau, I guess… Story is that we were transported to
Nirvana by all the dope and prayin’ .”

He turned and looked at Pan
“You reckon this is Nirvana, Pete?”
Peter was staring at his once-bare forearms now covered with a
fine light brown mat of hair.. His neck itched like crazy from the
new growth of beard.

“I dunno, Chief..” He said in a distracted, distant tone of
resignation. “You gotta be four hundred or more years old by what
I studied in grade school, so I guess it’s either Nirvana… or Hell.”

“…But where are all the Hindus?” they chorused, the same as they
always did.

“Well Chief, This is it!” Pan stood and hugged the old man.

“Good hunting, Pete! Hope there’s still some game left time you
get back to the world.”

As he had done so many times before, the old man stood and
watched the latest Prince of Innocents walk away from his camp
for the last time. Soon there would be another to mentor and
counsel…

“Maybe it really is Hell…” He mumbled and went back into his
tipi.

************************

Wendy was besotted; as the handsome Hook held her and kissed
her with savage tenderness, her heart beating as if she had run
upstairs a dozen times without stopping.
Yet she felt as if she could lift the world and she was numb but
felt every nerve ending in her body tingle.
Curiously there was this feeling of fullness and emptiness at the
same time, the fullness in her chest the emptiness in her belly!
“Oh Hook” she exclaimed. “I want you… to …”
She stopped, confused.

Hook’s hand, already stroking her inner thighs, crept to their
junction; soothing, stroking then stopped and pressed and poked.

He drew back from her in alarm…
“There’s nothing there!” He cried. “It’s smooth!”

” Why…?” She started. “But of course this is something there .”
But she didn’t understand why Hook was so concerned.
“How else would I ever piddle?” She blushed at the intimate term.
But when she turned her back to Hook and felt of herself, she
discovered the source of the strange feeling in her belly.
“Oh my!” She exclaimed for want of better words. She WAS
smooth there!

Concern about the practical aspects of this revelation came and
went in a flood of frustration and emotion.
She had been denied! She wasn’t sure of what and by whom… but
the feeling of desolation and disappointment was there,
nonetheless.

“Oh!” she burst into tears, “I want to go home.”
She ran through the cabin door sobbing.

Hook heaved a deep sigh and slumped dejectedly.. Once again so
close, once again denied. He only wanted to lose his cherry, the
same ambition as any other healthy 14 year-old might have.

*****************

Sometime later, Smee knocked on the open door..

“Scuze me sir.. That scurvy Pan’s requestin’ permission to board,
sir!”

Hook took a deep breath.
“Very well, bring him aboard…. then go to Wendy’s cabin and
help her get ready, if she needs.”

To the unasked question, he replied;
“She’s leaving wit’ Pan. I can’t put up with her silliness any
longer.”

“Have him here in a jiffy, Cap’n sir!”

There was something disturbingly different about Pan. Something
that made Hook feel , well….. childish. He couldn’t put his finger
on it but he had noticed it before, a long time ago.

“Take her and begone, Pan!” said Hook with an air of bravado
that he certainly didn’t feel. “I have no further use for the wench.”

“Thanks, Hook.” replied his nemesis in an unexpectedly friendly
tone.
Pan shook his hand and left to join Wendy at the hatch, he turned
and said; “You’ve been a great enemy, good luck!”

Which confused Hook the more but he shrugged it off as another
eccentricity of the good guys.

Wendy felt strangely content as Peter rowed them to shore. She
was also impressed by the bulge of his arms as he strained against
the oars. She felt again the little stirrings in her belly but this
time it was more familiar.
“Please, Peter.. When we reach shore, I must relieve myself.”

****
“Oh John, Michael!” Wendy exclaimed as they reunited in the
boys camp. Instead of smothering them in her embrace though as
she usually did when greeting them after any absence, Wendy
seemed content to give them a quick hug and return to the side of
the good-looking Pan.

“Wendy, boys!” Exclaimed Peter as the emotions of the reunion
passed. “It’s time for me to take you home.”
“We’ll be leaving at dusk!” And he whistled the special note that
called Thunderbulb from her aerie in the top of the dead cypress.

Peter spent the remaining hours till dusk frolicking with the boys,
but they noticed that he didn’t seem to be himself. Finally he drew
Mark aside.

“Mark, take good care of everyone while I’m gone.”
“Geez, Peter. You’ll be back before Morning.. Most of these little
snots won’t even notice you’re gone.”
“I know.. I just wanted you to know I trust you!”

Mark looked at Peter queerly. There WAS something strange
about him lately.. Something foreign and… yeah, “grown-up
acting.”
Mark snorted in disgust that he could even think such a thing of
his best buddy in the whole world and stomped off to tease some
of the older kids.

Shortly, there was a crackling, tinkling sound and a few of the
boys looked up and saw the streak of fire-dust from the pixie and
the dim shadows of Peter , Wendy and the boys as they arced away
into the direction of the Orion constellation.

*********

Wendy’s parents were shocked as they came home from the party
to find the front Parlour bright with gas-light and Wendy in her
nightdress and wrapper applying an ice compress to the forehead
of a strange young man who lay on the sofa.

“Oh, Mother, Father. I’m so glad you’re home” she cried.
“This stranger was struck by a runaway team in front of our very
stoop. I sent John for the doctor, he should return with him any
time.”

One looked at the other with a little surprise that Wendy should
allow her brother out at this hour, no matter the emergency.
Wendy seemed to sense this.
“Well I had to, the servants being out and all.” She looked
compassionately at the young man’s swollen forehead.
“After all I was of more use here!”

Wendy’s mother stooped to hug her daughter..
“We understand, my dear. You are the Samaritan, as always.”
She smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead and couldn’t help
but notice, and begin to fantasize about, the bountiful bulge in the
stranger’s breeches.

“I’m sure he’s welcome here until you have him fit and well”

– And they all lived interestingly ever after-

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