Lost Boi by Sassafras Lowrey Read Free Book Online

Mommy.
    Later, John Michael whispered to us bois about the rest of her adventure with Pan, how he’d motioned for John Michael to remain quiet. But from her place under the table, all she could make out was her face reflected in the toes of the immaculate boots that paced the room. Hook, Pan had told her, was Old Guard impeccable. John Michael hadn’t known exactly what that meant, but she started to get an idea when his crew entered and presented themselves for inspection against the back wall.
    Each crew member stood before Captain Hook, erect and in proper uniform, ready to be judged. He had carefully instructed his crew in the ways of the Pirates, and as he inspected them—tucking in a shirt here, adjusting a collar there, and shaking his head at a scuffed boot—he lectured them.
    â€œA leather Pirate must always be respectable. He must present himself perfectly, always, in clothing and action. Black boots must always be worn. Do not mix different colours of leather; only black leather is appropriate. My crew will neverwear shorts, and should always wear denim or leather. Once earned, a Pirate should only be seen in his leather jacket. Only I, as your Captain, may wear a cap. Never wear the leather of another Pirate, unless it has been given to you.
    â€œYou are my crew because you wear my collar; you are mine, and mine alone. You are not to engage in battle of any kind with another Captain. Battling with lost bois is, of course, permitted. No Captain will engage you because you wear my collar, which means you are owned, you are off-limits, and they will stay away from you, if they have been trained properly and know what’s good for them. Captains do not take collars, ever. Never forget: we Pirates are a breed unto ourselves.”
    Of course, none of this was new for Hook’s crew, but John Michael was mesmerized. Pan always said that this was shit that Hook had found on a website or something, but Hook swore he was Old Guard-trained in the dungeons of San Francisco before everyone had died. Hook said that the rules were literally beaten into him, and that was how he trained his crew. In his own way, like Pan and all us lost bois, Hook avoided growing up. He never had to have a grownup job but lived in a world of sexual outlaws, travelling from kink conference to kink conference, teaching his history and helping others to appropriately train their submissives. Hook not only trained others in the rules passed down to him from the great leather Pirates who’d come before, but he dedicated his life to their honour and made sure not one member of hiscrew ever forgot that. In that way, his world inside the Jolly Roger was like our Neverland, separate from the morality and the judgments and the expectations of adults.
    But the Pirates are our enemies because they are rich yuppies. Their fridges were always full. But they were different from grownups, because they lived by their own rules. Rules, Hook maintained, ensured the keeping of good form, and Hook was at his most seductive when he spoke about the importance of good form. When I first met him, I thought it was just about the clothes. After all, he wore only black leather: boots, pants, cap, gloves, pajamas (Pan always added that last one, when he’d make us bois pee ourselves laughing as he imitated one of Hook’s serious lectures). Hook’s keys always jingled from his left belt loop. He always laughed at Pan’s black hanky flagging; after all, Pan had no keys. But I have to admit that good form went deeper than clothes for Hook. Pan had already told John Michael about the Crocodile, and how Hook had never forgiven him for hooking him. Of course, Hook would cut anyone who called him weak, for to show weakness would be to dishonour himself, his crew, and all the great leather Pirates who had come before.
    Pan later told me that he didn’t know exactly why he had taken Wendi and John Michael to the Jolly Roger before