The Relapse Door

"I take it that's not taboo anymore either?"

"If it were, we'd all wear swimsuits here."

Tom could not deny the sensibility in that, nor did he find anything to complain about in the number of women who admired his body while frolicking by. He grinned back unabashedly at them all, whether he found them attractive or not; and he found the vast majority of them were attractive in one way or another. Tall, short, skinny, fat and in between, large- and small-breasted, shaved and hairy, skin tones of every color...clearly in the future there was far less body-shame and far more openmindedness, and Tom found that as beautiful as the acres of naked flesh he found on display in return for his own. The rush of the waves relaxed him further, and he allowed the cares of breakfast to mostly fade away for the time being.

Tom had heard about nude beaches back in his own time, and he and Jim had even talked of going to one back in their teens. Tom, as usual, had been the one with cold feet. "I don't know, Jim, I hear they charge admission. You pay money so people can see you naked?!"

"You get to see them naked too. Just imagine all the pussy!"

"That's another thing. I hear sex is taboo there."

"That don't make any sense, Tom? Who the heck is going to go to a nude beach and not have sex on their minds?"

"They say it's about getting back to nature, not about sex, is all!"

"Yeah, right, Tom. You and your too-pure mind, bro."

Tom soon learned that in this world, Jim would have been right. There were couples kissing and touching without shame or apology on blankets, in the water, everywhere it seemed. Not everyone participated, but so far as Tom could see, no one objected. He could see why Sarah had been sure to tell him the beach was for adults only. Some things, he thought, should definitely remain taboo forever.

Of course, had Darcie wanted to mess with him in his younger days, Tom admitted to himself, he'd have let her. He'd have regretted it later, he knew that somehow. But the idea of living ever after with a woman in her image? Somehow he just knew his hard dick got even harder at that thought.

As if to confirm that belief, he heard a whoop of approval nearby. "You made it!" exclaimed the same voice.

Tom looked up. It was Sally, the waitress, wearing a grand smile and nothing else. Plump and unashamed of it like Sarah, her robust body just as inviting as her smile, she was joined by two similarly built friends who stood just behind her. All three looked delighted to see him. "See, I told you I could keep my mouth shut, Doctor Sarah!" she added.

"That you did," Sarah agreed. "Well done, Sally. Tom, why don't you join Sally and her friends for a swim?"

"Great idea," Tom agreed, basking in Sally's adoration and that of her friends. Sally eagerly offered her hand to help him up, and they were off to play in the waves. She introduced her two friends to Tom, but names had never been his strong point and he was already paying more attention to seeing how their breasts bounced freely every which way as all four of them splashed around in the water. None of the women seemed to mind in the least the attention Tom paid their bodies as they played; after all, he soon realized, they were just as titillated with him. What a great change that was from the attitude he and Jim always used to get back home!

Jim. He would love a setting like this, Tom thought to himself, only he'd probably whine about how they didn't all look like centerfolds. His loss, Tom concluded, as one of Sally's friends jumped at him and they tumbled together in a lovely wet embrace. She kissed him on the nose and splashed him, and Tom laughed with joy.

Tom wasn't sure how long they played. Recalling how Sally had looked at him so adoringly that morning, he rather hoped they would get a little time alone at some point. That wasn't to be, for her friends were in no mood to let her have the hero to herself; but after some time Sally had had enough of mild play and waded out deeper into the waves. Tom eagerly followed, and soon found his penis in the vice-like grip of her hand as if she had him on a leash.

Sally grinned unapologetically at the prize she had at long last captured. "I've been wanting to do this all day," she said huskily, the waves bobbing just above her breasts. Squeezing lightly and rubbing just a touch up and down his hardness, she added, "So how do you find the future?"

"A lot more interesting than the past, right now," Tom said with a grin. By then he had both Sally's breasts in his hands and was doing his own share of rubbing and gentle squeezing, which she showed every sign of appreciating. "You'd never see anything like this back home."

"Tom, you are home. Everyone is saying that!"

"Are they really?" Tom asked.

"Well," Sally looked more serious now, and she let go of his cock and slipped her arms around him. "Everyone who knows why you're here. We're not really supposed to talk about that because not everyone knows how much trouble we're in. I'm not even sure I do. I'm privy to some stuff I probably shouldn't know because of things I overhear at the restaurant. But then, a lot of us saw you swimming in from the door yesterday."

"Oh, you were one of the folks I saw here, were you?"

"Yes, my dear, and I thought how unfair that he's burdened with all those heavy clothes!" Sally laughed.

"No doubt you wanted to help me out of them," Tom grinned.

"Of course! We live in a more liberated time, Tom. Now a woman can have a dirty mind too and not apologize for it."

"Yes," Tom agreed. "I can see there's a lot of great stuff you and your friends won't apologize for."

With a mischievous grin, Sally reached down again and regained her firm grip on Tom's manhood. "You got that right," she said. "Perhaps you're still a bit too uptight from your day's values, aren't you?"

"I don't know about that!" With that, Tom reached down between Sally's legs and tickled her vulva.

Sally wiggled and squealed in delight. "Oh, I knew you were a naughty one too!" she exulted. Tom saw her friends approaching now, curious about the source of Sally's noise, but Sally wasn't prepared to give him up just yet. She reached out and placed his hand on her triangle and said, "Do that again, please!"

Tom did as he was told and got another loud approval from Sally. As if to fulfill one of his oldest fantasies, he soon found Sally's two friends eagerly awaiting their own turn with his fingers. They could shriek just as well as she could, and they were also effective at ganging up to tickle him back. A fine time was had by all, and Tom also enjoyed the attention of a few other women who had figured out who he was when at last he returned to the beach for more sunbathing. By then Sarah was busy with another man in the water, so any concerns he'd had of jealousy were set aside.

He was chatting with a voluptuous blonde -- and thinking at least Jim would have approved of this one -- when Margarethe emerged gracefully from the waves. Or was it Darcie? Must be Margarethe, he rebuked himself as she stepped up to his gaggle of admirers. They knew who she was, and respectfully backed away as Tom sat up.

Sure enough, it was Margarethe. Every inch of her glorious body looked just as Tom had always imagined Darcie looked under her swimsuit, though he realized now that after the pleasant revelation from Sarah the night before, she had a rather fuller bush than Tom had imagined for Darcie. But everything else -- the long legs, pert breasts with big nipples, and that mesmerizing red hair -- was just as he'd recalled from all those years of fantasies. But it was Margarethe. In a mellow voice that was far from the Darcie's husky hometown accent, she said, "Welcome, Tom."

"Hello, Margarethe," Tom said uncertainly, wondering if there was some gesture of respect he was missing. He stumbled to his feet, feeling absolutely unworthy despite the hero's welcome he had enjoyed all day on the beach. Her smile and greeting and the memory of Sarah's encouragement were almost enough to put him at ease, but not quite. The beach had grown mostly quiet in Margarethe's presence, and Tom was vaguely aware of everyone regarding the two of them respectfully. Once again he felt like crying out that he was no hero. But of course that was out of the question. Not knowing what else to do, he stood before Margarethe in awed silence, his mind racing.

"Follow me, please," Margarethe said in that same lilting tone. Without another word, she turned and waded back into the waves, then dove in once the water was up to her hips. Tom wanted to protest that he couldn't hope to swim as well or as far as she could. But she was already underwater and wouldn't have heard him. Tom saw no choice but to do as he was told. As he ran into the waves, a cheer went up from every corner of the beach; but Tom was too scared to acknowledge it or thank anyone.

As he had watched Margarethe do, Tom dove in and swam for his life. Awkwardly at first, splashing far too much and recalling that he had spent more time lusting after Darcie than actually practicing anything she had taught him back in the day; he was sure he would run out of luck and drown any moment. But after a few strokes, he noticed his technique getting stronger and more efficient, and he found himself carried along in the current, guided effortlessly by Margarethe's smooth wake. There was little opportunity to look around, but each time he came up for breath he was aware of the beach receding further into the distance and miles of water in every other direction, Margarethe being the only sign of life a dozen or so strokes ahead; and to his surprise he was no longer frightened. He recalled seeing her swimming to the island yesterday, and somehow he knew he would make it there today.

The swim may have lasted for an hour or two or more. But the longer it went on, the more serene Tom found himself feeling. He soon gave up trying to make any sense of it all, concluding that would only cause trouble, and trusted his arms and legs and the current to draw him along however long it might take. When at last he was aware of Margarethe standing on a beach ahead of him, he felt no more fatigued than he'd have expected after a normal workout. It was with an almost relaxed final burst of energy that he pushed himself until he was aware of the ocean floor coming up close beneath him, and stood up to walk the last few steps onto the island.

"Welcome home, Tom," Margarethe said, opening her arms to embrace him for the first time when he ambled ashore. Tom eagerly returned the hug and found her body a heavenly mix of firm and soft, just as he had always imagined Darcie would feel in his arms. Feeling absolutely safe despite all that morning's dire warnings, he relaxed and exhaled deeply. Opening his eyes, he saw an imposing yellow house before him up the hill, and dark skies beyond. Looking behind him, he saw the sun was growing low over the horizon from which they had come. He guessed the swim had been a long one indeed!

"Thank you," Tom said, still uncertain of just how to address Margarethe even as she cradled him. "Please, I'm sorry, everybody back there was treating me like a hero, and I don't even know what I'm supposed to do next..."

"All in good time." Margarethe released him, but took both his hands in hers. "First things first, we must get you inside." She gestured to the front door of the house, and turned to walk him up the path.

"You live here?" Tom asked. "Alone?"

"Until now, I hope," she said.

"You hope?"

Margarethe guided him up the steps to the porch, then stopped. "I do indeed hope, Tom. My gift has been a burden as well, and it has often been just as well I live here on my own, for I have had to do horrid things to keep my people safe. I have always been to understand that one day my life's companion would arrive to aid me in my burden to close the door to the past, and then he and I would have peace and joy together. It may be you. That is to be determined, and quite soon at last."

"Good heavens, I hope everybody knows just who I am if they're expecting me to help you save them!" Tom exclaimed. "I wish you'd seen me back in my own time before you chose me."

"I did see you and I did not choose you, Tom."

"What?"

Margarethe meandered aside to a spot on the porch where the sun cast a long shadow behind her. The droplets on her wet bare skin twinkled delightfully in the dying light. Though unabashed about her nudity, she now looked almost shy as she spoke to him. "That is hardly important. Neither are the failures of your past, or your own feelings of inadequacy. You have a gift like mine -- not the same gift, but one that complements mine -- and there is value untold in you, whether you can see it or not. I have had the opportunity to see it from here, Tom; you shall come to understand how, and to see why it is that I believe you and I belong together. Completing the circle of my love is not a reward, but a validation of your own worth, and together we can right a horrible wrong that threatens us from long ago. But Tom, you must first believe in yourself, whatever your reasons not to."

Tom was moved and encouraged by her words, and in the tender moment he longed to hold her again. But when he made to do so, Margarethe held up her hands in a gentle reproof. "There is work to be done before we can consummate our bond," she told him. "And additionally I sense it is necessary that you conquer certain demons of your own with which I cannot help you. Come." With that she opened the door to the mansion, and bade Tom follow her inside.

There were two stairwells just inside the door. Margarethe pointed him toward the right-hand one and started up the left-hand side herself. "I shall see you in the common room," she told him. "Wash yourself off in the shower, and you'll find all the clothes you could like to put on."

"I don't suppose I should even bother asking how you knew my size and my style," Tom said, obeying the directive.

"By now you should not have to ask, my darling."

Atop the stairwell, Tom found himself in the largest bedroom he had ever seen, and suddenly he felt very tired after the marathon swim. But he had orders to follow, and soon he found his way to the bathroom. It was also huge, and well-stocked with towels and soap and everything else a person could dream of using to wash up. Already nude, Tom stepped beneath the large shower tap and turned on the water. He realized too late that he hadn't set the temperature, only to find the water fell at a perfect temperature for him. On further investigation he found no controls anyway.

It was only after several minutes of scrubbing and rejuvenating that Tom realized the facilities he was using were far more modern -- by the standards of his era rather than the current one -- than anything he had seen back on the mainland. Perhaps Margarethe would explain this, perhaps she wouldn't, but in any case Tom found he was not surprised. It was quite possible he would never again be surprised by anything. With that settled, he was eager to see Margarethe again and learn what must happen next, so he completed his shower and toweled off hurriedly.

Back in the bedroom, just as promised, he found a wealth of clothing that fit him perfectly. In a mood to dress up a bit for his lady, Tom slipped into a comfortable blue shirt of what felt like silk, pleated linen pants, elegant dress socks and navy blue loafers. He couldn't recall the last time he had had occasion to dress so nicely; then he reasoned with a laugh that whatever the occasion, it was well over nine hundred years ago.

When he felt presentable, Tom looked around the room trying to determine where he was to meet Margarethe. He guessed at a pair of French doors just beyond the king-sized bed, and strode forth to open them. His guess proved correct, for he found himself in a well-lit foyer where Margarethe awaited him in a flashy green and white print dress. She was nearly as stunning as she had been in the nude, and Tom longed to take her in his arms. But he knew now that could not yet be.

"My dear, you look wonderful for your age," Margarethe said with a wicked grin, turning to face him. "You're dressed perfectly for dinner, but there are some things I must show you before that. Come this way." Behind her was a set of doors identical to the ones through which Tom had come, but she set off for a third, single door that faced to Tom's right, toward the back of the house if his orientation was correct.

She opened the door, and Tom followed her out of the opulent foyer and into what looked like a clean but old hallway. "Welcome to the Hall of Memories," she told him.

"The Hall of Memories," Tom repeated. "You are full of surprises."

"There are certain things that, for the good of humanity, people like you and me must remember," Margarethe explained. "And there are things you should recall for your own edification. There are also some things that are best forgotten, but you will learn to tell the difference soon enough, I am sure." Stopping at one door, she turned the knob and stepped aside. "Behold."

Tom did as he was told, and saw a gray wasteland before him. Dead trees, abandoned cars and buildings, a blistering sun baking everything as far as he could see. "Let me guess," he said. "The Hot Era."

Margarethe nodded her confirmation. "That's Mascawad less than a hundred years after you came to town. We don't know exactly when, but it doesn't matter. And it stayed like this for a couple of centuries before anything could grow here again. My family remained here, though you can't see them from this vantage point. They suffered intensely and I have no idea why they did not abandon the land for the far north like so many others did; but they didn't. Such was the origin of the blessings and curses of my own life here." She shut the door and walked briskly down to the next one. "Now then," she said, opening it.

Tom stepped inside and found himself in his and Jim's favorite bar. Indeed Jim was at the bar drinking with a couple of their co-workers and a woman or two from town. "Cold as a witch's tit out there, isn't it?" one of the other guys said.

"I know, man," Jim agreed. "And here my best buddy won't shut up about global warming!"

"I heard about him!" said another. "Hasn't he been outside here lately? Can't you talk any sense into him, Jim?"

"Man, I try!" Jim said. "I love Tom like a brother, but he's just thick as a brick on this stuff."

"You idiot!" Tom shouted, but it came out like a whisper and no one heard. He went on anyway. "Don't you know what you're throwing away?!"

"They don't hear or see you, Tom," Margarethe told him. "You'd better come back outside. I only want you to understand just what we're up against. It might require drastic measures."

"Not against Jim," Tom said with finality. "He's my brother from another mother, never let me down and I won't let him down."

"I admire your loyalty," Margarethe said. But she did not sound pleased. Before she could say anything else, an alarm sounded. An ear-splitting alarm like Tom remembered from the time he and Jim had tried to break into the high school computer lab back home; they had only just gotten out of sight before the police were on the scene. Now as then, Tom grabbed at his ears and squinted. "Sorry!" Margarethe shouted; Tom barely heard her. She ran down the hall, her skirt swishing madly around her and Tom just behind her, and threw open a double door on the right.

It was quieter and darker inside. "This will only take a minute!" she reassured Tom, who looked up to see a vast window that looked into a snowy forest scene. With a shock he realized it was the same forest from which he had been abducted. The door to the past, Tom realized with a shock. Before he had fully processed the view, Margarethe had already climbed up a ladder to a shelf overlooking the window. Without another word, she dove off the shelf and floated effortlessly through the window.