Life with her Master, Captain Hook was increasingly thrilling to Tink. He was an imaginative and kindly lover and a strong guiding presence in her life. She simply adored the man and everything about him, his appearance, his commanding voice, even the firm stroke of his hand reddening her bottom when she needed correction. On a day like any other, Tink flew high over Neverland and made her way to town to see if anything was new in the lives of the locals. She flew over the stores and taverns surveying the comings and goings of the townspeople. The xbec she’d noticed the other day was still in port and apparently unloaded. Flying past the ships stern, Tink saw that her name was the HMS East India and now empty, her hull rode high in the water. No doubt her crew was granted liberty for a day or two, in keeping with their agreement contract and soon, the ship would return home, be restocked and move on to her next port of delivery. Tink stopped to rest and to observe the ship, lighting atop a yardarm and hid behind her rigging. While standing atop the well varnished wooden member of the yardarm, Tink’s hands trembled as she recalled her recent climb of the Jolly Roger’s mast to retrieve the gifts now affixed to her ear and her nipples. Her nipples were fully healed now and there was no soreness to them and only thrilling excitement when her Master handled the gold bars, or her tunic rubbed against them.
Tink’s attention shifted to motion on the deck some thirty meters beneath her. The ship’s constable and two deckhands dragged a hapless sailor above decks. The man was chained at the wrists and ankles. Whatever his crime, his captors dragged him to the Mizzen mast and hoisted by the wrist chains to a stretched-standing position with a light block and tackle. As the man stood on the balls of his feet, the constable directed the deckhands to wrap his body in other light chains that had small wires affixed to them, not unlike barbed wire. These chains were drawn tightly so that with each movement, the sharp wires scratched and abraded his skin. Tink felt stirrings inside her that made her gasp in shock and horror, but also in pleasure and a sexual tension that threatened to make her orgasm just watching the man’s predicament. Tink worried over how much she envied this man the pain of his restraints.
Lest she actually reach orgasm aloft on a narrow yardarm, Tink flew off to get safely to the ground and regain her composure. Her tunic rose and fell with her heaving breasts as Tink’s breathing grew deep and raspy. Her vagina exuded wetness that coursed well past her thighs to her calves and her ankles. It took a full half hour for Tink’s mind to return to the present and put aside the amazing scene before her.
Before long though, an even more exciting thought traversed the ganglia and axons of Tink’s mind in her heightened state of S&M lust. What if Tink could recreate the sailor’s hapless torture near her bunk in her Master’s cabin? It was a bold plan but her Master had told Tink if ever she need anything from the village that she was authorized to simply charge the items to the Jolly Roger’s accounts. The only time she’d ever done so was once to buy thread and fabric for a new tunic. Trembling in anticipation and fear, Tink flew into the village and walked unsteadily into the ships mercantile store. There she purchased twelve meters of light chain, ten meters of stiff wire and a wire cutting pliers. Unfortunately, her purchases were just heavy enough that Tink couldn’t fly with them and so she walked back to the Jolly Roger with her supplies. Along the way, she paused to rest in a field lush with wildflowers. Tink lay on the soft grass, idly teasing her nipples by scratching her fingernail on the gold bar and feeling the vibrations bring her nipple to resonance from within. Closing her eyes to focus deeper on her feelings, Tink realized that something was missing. Indeed, the smell of iron from the chain and the wire brought her memory back to Doctor Park and of his awl poking the piercing so exquisitely painful to the tender flesh of her nipples. How Tink longed to experience again the burning pain of the awl piercing her and of the carbolic acid and iodine entering the wounds. Tink shivered anew and held her eyes tightly closed and felt her thighs involuntarily rubbing together spreading her wetness as though something apart from her consciousness was driving them.
When Tink was ready to revisit reality she opened her eyes and a sudden thought struck her like a lightning bolt, causing her to gasp and shiver at the same time! In this field of wildflowers, hundreds of honey bees gathered nectar. Tink sat up to observe them while the idea took shape in her mind. Looking about her, Tink saw a small whiskey flask that some sailor had carelessly dropped along the path to the dock. A tiny dram of the amber liquid lay at the bottom. Tink emptied the whiskey on the earth, lay the flask close to the wild flowers and waited. In due course, a honey bee flew to the mouth of the flask and alighted just inside the neck. From there it walked forward, entering deeper into the flask. Tink quickly inserted the cork into place and the bee was her captive. Fairly quickly, the bee fell into a fitful state of drugged hibernation. Because a bee’s flight demands so much oxygen for the muscles driving their wings, they absorb it directly through their skin. With the vapors of the last bit of whiskey in the air, the bee had grown quite intoxicated in scant seconds and he lay sleeping in the flask.
Tink looked lovingly at the bee for she felt great empathy for all winged creatures. She was now this bee’s master and she loved him. Kissing the flak, close to the sleeping form of the bee, Tink tucked it into the belt of her tunic, picked up her chains and wire and completed her walk to the ship an directly to the Captain’s cabin. She stopped twice to pull the cork briefly and then replace it so as to offer her pet a change of air. Her Master was busy with the crew and Tink spoke lovingly to the bee. “My beautiful pet, I love you. A bee’s life is a short one and I will miss you terribly but in a few minutes you will die to bring me as your Master great pain and pleasure. Tink paused, just a bit jealous of her pet for she would gladly offer her life for her own master’s pleasure. She lit two candles, to prepare the setting and took a small drinking glass from a shelf and cleaned it spotlessly to honor her bee. She lowered the top of her tunic exposing her breasts. Which one, she thought. Of course, close to my heart. Tink took a jar from the shelf and dabbed a small drop of sugared water onto her left nipple. Then she pulled the cork from the flask and gently slid her bee into the glass and held it firmly to her breast. “Wake up my pet,” Tink spoke gently and lovingly. In perhaps a minute, the bee came to in the fresh air of the glass and he took flight, buzzing about the glass before landing on Tink’s breast and spiraling lightly towards her nipple. Tink thrilled at the soft feel of bee’s legs as he made the brief journey. “A last meal for you my live,” Tink said as the bee began sampling the sugared water on the very tip of her nipple. “Goodbye and thank you my pet; I love you,” said a reverent Tink as she suddenly slapped a fingernail against the side of the glass frightening bee. In a completely uncontrollable instinctive reaction, bee thrust his barbed stinger into the flesh beneath him and his abdomen convulsed as his venom coursed into Tink. Pulling away, bee felt a terrible pain as his abdomen ripped open and he lay dying on Tink’s areola.
A deep, burning pain invaded Tink’s tender nipple as the venom did its work and she shivered in pain and delight. “Thank you my love, oh thank you!’ Tink breathed through the grateful tears in her soft blue eyes. The burning in her nipple was both terrible and exquisite. Once composed, Tink removed the stinger and cradled Bee’s deceased body lovingly in her hand and she kissed him. Tink replaced the top of her tunic and carried bee protectively off the ship and buried him in the flower field where she’d found him. “I will not forget you my wonderful darling bee,” she said before returning to the Jolly Roger.
Her breast throbbed but Tink’s work wasn’t done. She must offer her own punishment for bee’s demise. Tink cut the light chain into four pieces. The first, she hung from a stout nail set into the oaken beam high over her cot so that the chain came down past the front if her body, between her legs and back up between her buttocks and up her back to the nail. The second chain would hang from the nail and run down her left side, connect to the first chain and then run up her right side to the nail. The third and fourth chains would run a circular path bisecting the hanging chains, one at her breasts and one at her hips. Then, Tink began cutting the wire at an oblique angle into pieces some two centimeters long and twisting them into the chain links at intervals creating barbs that would insult her skin.
Tink, removed her tunic and stepped naked up onto her cot and threaded her body into the iron harness she’d crafted. The harness took on the look of a teardrop as it surrounded her body. Her legs would hang free with the front/rear chain supported her groin, the chain pressing painfully into her vagina and anus. The other chains gathered tightly to Tink scratching and gouging her body as she whimpered in pain and delight. Tink wondered if she would be rendered unconscious from the mixed sensations from her body and from her still burning nipple. Suddenly, Tink heard the sounds of her master approaching and knew that there was no way she could extricate herself in time to be kneeling for his inspection.
“My Master, I am so sorry to have failed you,” I will do better next time,” Tink wailed.
“What is this, Lightning Bug, who has done this to you, I will disembowel him!” Hook screamed thunderously.
“No one has done this to me my Master,” Tinkerbelle said weakly.
It took a full ten seconds for Hook to grasp her meaning and finally a lascivious smile crossed his lips as Hook said, “I might be your master, bug but I am learning from you.” You want this punishment and I shall help you to suffer it. Hook stationed himself near her and began swinging Tink’s chain cage to and fro, eventually swinging in a wide arc, not unlike a bell in a steeple. The chains and wires forced themselves deeper into Tink and she gasped and heaved for breath. Her body burned like fire and her spirit soared higher into the ether than she’d ever flown. Hook began masturbating as he pushed her, his cockhead an angry purple and in time Tink screamed and lost consciousness as Hook let fly his prodigious load of cum on her face and upper body and her vagina gushed her ejaculate in a wide arc across his boots and the floor.
Tink awoke to find that her master had removed her unconscious form from her cage and placed her lovingly into her cot and covered her. She tried to move her arm but it was confined. Looking about her, Tink saw that her master had completely wrapped her in sailcloth such that she couldn’t move a muscle! Mildly panicked at first, Tink struggled against the stout canvas but soon realized that it was a useless gesture. She would be thus confined until her Master chose to release her. Tink spoke aloud, lovingly praising her wonderful Master, hoping that if he was too far from her to hear her words that her spirit would connect with his across the cosmos and he would feel the warmth of her abiding love wherever he stood.
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/bdsm/tink-ch-4-a-voyage-of-self-discovery