Confessions
Title: Confessions
Fandom: Peter Pan
Character: James Hook
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 639
Prompt: Kink Bingo Fill: “Torture/Interrrogation”
James Hook had left the church when he determined that he was not cut out for a sedentary life of quiet and prayer. Once out in the world, he realized that his tastes ran in direct opposition to the teachings of peace and love the church had tried to instill upon him. By the time he was serving as boatswain for Blackbeard, he knew his soul was irredeemably tarnished, he loved the life of a pirate. He would have made a very bad priest.
The sea was the perfect life for him. There were no expectations that he take a wife or keep female company. He had chosen the church to get away from the meddlesome sex. The sea offered the same protections. He was content with things the way they are.
Eventually, when he was made quartermaster, the duty of punishment fell upon his shoulders. He represented the crew to the captain. It was one of his tasks to oversee the crew and discipline them when necessary.
There had been a theft of a small silver-cased spyglass from one of the officers, and Hook had to question the crew. He spoke to a few of the men and then rounded up four crewmen that seemed the most likely to be the thieves.
One by one, he had ordered them tied to the mainmast, in the middle of the day, when the sun was at its hottest. He had circled them slowly, casting hard looks at them, designed to unnerve them as they sweated in the sun. He asked very few questions of them, which seemed to unsettle his prisoners even more. He had made his accusations in a low voice, intended to frighten.
He learned many things that day. He learned how to be patient and wait for the information he wanted. He learned that desperate men will say many things, will confess to things they were not even accused of if they believed it would get their bindings cut. He got his first taste of the power of fear.
On that day, he was the furthest from the grace of the church that he had ever been. His soul was committed to the new path he had found and embraced.
And then came the violence. There was satisfaction in the sound of the lash striking skin as he gave them a taste of what waited for the thief when he was eventually found out. He had questioned the men all day and still had no confession, though he was sure one of them was guilty. The sun was setting and the captain wanted an answer, Hook would be punished if he did not provide the captain with what he asked. Hook ordered the men tied with rope at the wrists and had them ushered to the aft deck.
“I’ll have the spyglass or I’ll use you for bait.” He waved to the first man and ordered, “Throw him overboard. Tie the rope off around the rail.”
The threat was enough. The man he had pointed to, his most likely suspect, squealed in fear as he was grabbed up by two burly gunner’s mates. As they lifted him towards the rail, he shouted, “Stop! In the larder, behind the salt pork barrel! Please! I can’t swim, I can’t swim!”
Hook saw the other three suspects sag with relief. As the man in midair babbled and pleaded for mercy. Hook gestured for the gunner’s mates to put the thief down. “Thirty lashes. Twenty for thievery and ten for holding your tongue so long,” he decreed. He was mildly disappointed that it was all over as he turned away from the men and started forward to check the larder himself for the missing spyglass.
He had found a new diversion for the boredom that sometimes came over him.
The End Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/
Fandom: Peter Pan
Character: James Hook
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 639
Prompt: Kink Bingo Fill: “Torture/Interrrogation”
James Hook had left the church when he determined that he was not cut out for a sedentary life of quiet and prayer. Once out in the world, he realized that his tastes ran in direct opposition to the teachings of peace and love the church had tried to instill upon him. By the time he was serving as boatswain for Blackbeard, he knew his soul was irredeemably tarnished, he loved the life of a pirate. He would have made a very bad priest.
The sea was the perfect life for him. There were no expectations that he take a wife or keep female company. He had chosen the church to get away from the meddlesome sex. The sea offered the same protections. He was content with things the way they are.
Eventually, when he was made quartermaster, the duty of punishment fell upon his shoulders. He represented the crew to the captain. It was one of his tasks to oversee the crew and discipline them when necessary.
There had been a theft of a small silver-cased spyglass from one of the officers, and Hook had to question the crew. He spoke to a few of the men and then rounded up four crewmen that seemed the most likely to be the thieves.
One by one, he had ordered them tied to the mainmast, in the middle of the day, when the sun was at its hottest. He had circled them slowly, casting hard looks at them, designed to unnerve them as they sweated in the sun. He asked very few questions of them, which seemed to unsettle his prisoners even more. He had made his accusations in a low voice, intended to frighten.
He learned many things that day. He learned how to be patient and wait for the information he wanted. He learned that desperate men will say many things, will confess to things they were not even accused of if they believed it would get their bindings cut. He got his first taste of the power of fear.
On that day, he was the furthest from the grace of the church that he had ever been. His soul was committed to the new path he had found and embraced.
And then came the violence. There was satisfaction in the sound of the lash striking skin as he gave them a taste of what waited for the thief when he was eventually found out. He had questioned the men all day and still had no confession, though he was sure one of them was guilty. The sun was setting and the captain wanted an answer, Hook would be punished if he did not provide the captain with what he asked. Hook ordered the men tied with rope at the wrists and had them ushered to the aft deck.
“I’ll have the spyglass or I’ll use you for bait.” He waved to the first man and ordered, “Throw him overboard. Tie the rope off around the rail.”
The threat was enough. The man he had pointed to, his most likely suspect, squealed in fear as he was grabbed up by two burly gunner’s mates. As they lifted him towards the rail, he shouted, “Stop! In the larder, behind the salt pork barrel! Please! I can’t swim, I can’t swim!”
Hook saw the other three suspects sag with relief. As the man in midair babbled and pleaded for mercy. Hook gestured for the gunner’s mates to put the thief down. “Thirty lashes. Twenty for thievery and ten for holding your tongue so long,” he decreed. He was mildly disappointed that it was all over as he turned away from the men and started forward to check the larder himself for the missing spyglass.
He had found a new diversion for the boredom that sometimes came over him.
The End Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/