Tom's Parallel World Pt. 07

Tom didn't want to explain about his ex-girlfriend or his homeworld experiences too much.

"Oh wow, the benefit of no job... So why here?"

She gestured around the pub.

"Ah... long story."

And one he didn't know how to explain. Thankfully, he took his own advice and kept his story simple.

"Well, my tent got damaged in a storm overnight when I camped on the cliff top, between here and The Lizard. When I arrived here, I chatted with Kitty. She needed help, so I stayed. I've grown to love the village. The fisherdogs are a little quirky but once you get to know them they're okay."

"Tent, you were camping?"

"Ex-student, no money... I would camp off the beaten track and sneak into campsites along the way to shower and stuff. They never noticed with all the other campers coming and going."

"Is that the reason for the beard and hair?"

Roxy giggled, ruffling his hair and scratching his beard.

"Ah, well... Being a typical bloke and there being a lack of mirrors, I let it grow its own way. Funnily enough, I was thinking only last night it needs trimming... I've tried, but possibly only made it worse."

Roxy giggled.

"If you want, I could trim it. I often have to trim students' hair, although they are a lot younger."

Roxy saw Tom's eyes brighten, then look at the bar, seeing if Kitty had heard.

"That doesn't come under some kind of guest fraternisation rule, does it?"

"I don't know... Although I wouldn't want to lose the beard, the felines and canines here are a little flighty with naked humans."

Roxy blushed as Tom corrected...

"Ahem, you know, clean-shaven... Not fully naked, well they don't like that either, but... Oh, you know what I mean?"

"Well, I'm not used to trimming beards, but I'm sure I can manage."

Before he could stop her, Roxy finished her coffee and headed for the kitchen, carrying the tray, leaving Tom gob smacked. After some howling laughter in the kitchen, Roxy returned with a pair of scissors and a beaming smile.

"I can see why you stay here Tom... They're lovely. Kitty said to use the public bathroom upstairs, but you'll have to clean it afterwards."

Tom laughed... At long last, he seemed to have found a human woman that tickled his fancy and his stirring cock knew it. He got up and led her upstairs. First, he showed her the shared bathroom, then she went to her room to change out of her waterproofs.

Tom went up to the second floor to call into his room to collect the spare chair. He double checked Chrys had gone with her toys and clothing. A little sad she hadn't bid him farewell, but that seemed to be their way here.

After carrying the chair back down to the first floor, he placed it in the centre of the bathroom, removed his T-shirt, and sat down. Roxy appeared without the waterproofs, in a tight pair of leggings and trainers. She laughed to see him bare-chested.

"You're not supposed to laugh."

He gave an embarrassed chuckle as he crossed his arms across his chest, feigning a hurt look on his face.

"Sorry, that wasn't fair... You're quite fit, not normal for a plain old waiter."

Her eyes betrayed admiration.

She playfully snipped the scissors as she approached him and produced a ladies' comb. Although she had a battle trying to comb through his knotted hair... She laughed at the protests Tom made each time she snagged and yanked at his knotted hair.

With most knots taken out, Tom sat back and enjoyed being the attention of this blonde svelte woman, enjoying her breasts brushing his shoulders and elbows as she moved around him. Her hands were soft as they stroked him, snipping and brushing the hair clippings off his body, with the odd hand sweeping across his shoulders and abs.

He was sure she meant to brush her palms over his hard nipples, just for the sake of it. She ran her comb through his hair one last time and gestured for him to look in the mirror on the wall. The results surprised Tom with his hair now far more respectable. He even had white skin peeking out around his exposed neck.

"I've not finished, sit back down."

Roxy giggled.

Tom sat down for Roxy to kneel, sexily between his legs, brushing her breasts up his inner thighs, smiling up at him, knowing full well what she was doing, as she could feel his shaft hardening through his shorts. She slowly clipped away at his beard.

"I'll trim it back first, and then I can always cut some more off, if you want."

Tom enjoyed her hands bunching up his beard as she cut, leaning her breasts into his cock as she brushed them up and down. Roxy's head bobbed in and out, first in close to cut, so Tom could feel the warmth of her breath. Then she'd lean back, checking the symmetry of the cut, giving Tom a bird's-eye view of her freckles and long eyelashes.

A few times, their eyes met. Each time Tom looked deep into her luminescent green eyes, wishing for her to kiss him. A few times he thought she was, but she would tease him with her hands darting in to snip at his beard once more, for her to grin, seeing his disappointment.

Tom felt cheated when she stood up, gesturing for him to view her handy work in the mirror once more. He could barely recognise his face looking back at him. She had done a great job with his trimmed beard matching his hair.

"Well done, that's perfect, you're wonderful, thanks."

He turned to find her close behind him. He instinctively went to hug her, but she stepped back, smiling as she saw the frown on his face. She stepped back forward to give him a polite hug, pecking a kiss on his cheek.

Tom bent over and ruffled his hair to loosen all the clippings. A second pair of hands joined his but dropped to brush his chest and body. Tom straightened up as Roxy passed him his T-shirt, mimicking a sad face, when he put it back on, covering his body. Tom went and got their equivalent of a hoover, but Roxy remained to help.

"Oh, no Roxy, it's okay. You've done enough, lovely. I'll finish up here, thanks."

She shook her head as she took the suction tube, engaged the suction and started on his beard, laughing. Her strength surprised Tom as she held him, dragging the hose end over him, sucking on his beard, hair and cheeks.

The pair giggled and laughed as they tussled and wrestled together until Tom found himself sitting on top of her. He had her pinned down to the floor, holding onto her wrists as she laughed, pretending to suck more cuttings from his beard with the hoover's extended hose.

He leaned over her, his head level with hers, looking into her eyes, both willing the other to draw closer. Tom wanted to go further, but he didn't want guests or, even worse, Kitty finding him in this position. He'd done enough playing and needed to return to work.

"Ahem, I'm sorry... Things are getting a bit out of hand. I'll need to tidy up as we will have other guests arriving soon."

Tom released her and stood up, offering his hand to help her up.

"Oh, sorry, I thought we were having a little fun."

"Oh, ahh, yeah, we were, but I have work to do."

Roxy pulled herself up to face him. She held his hand and brushed her hair straight with her free hand.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I've distracted you enough already. Maybe later, we could have a rematch? You do remember my room number, for later, don't you?"

"Uh-huh... Sounds like a very nice plan. But first, you go down and I'll tidy up, then I'll sort you out some lunch."

Roxy pecked a light kiss on his cheek and echoed, "Sounds like a plan."

She turned and slinked down the hallway, kicking her hips out with each step, knowing that Tom was watching her. Tom watched her disappear down the stairs, annoyed with himself, as he still seemed awkward in coming forward with human women, especially one's that he desired.

It didn't take long for Tom to tidy up. He double-checked the bathroom for hair and tidied the hoover away. He returned the chair to his room and made his way down to the ground floor.

Roxy had returned to her original table and was enjoying another coffee. Kitty was signing in guests at the bar. Tom thanked Roxy again, as he passed her on his way to the kitchen to be greeted with nods of approval, and put on his black apron.

From then on, the day was a blur of waiting on tables and clearing plates for Tom. He ensured Roxy received all his attention whenever he had time. When he couldn't, she enjoyed reading various holographic magazines as she ate or sipped tea or coffee, watching the rain squalls outside.

Despite some guests cancelling, Kitty's was full of fisherdogs, captains, wives, and families taking advantage of the fishing being called off, coming to socialise and eat out. Becky came into work as usual, but was conscious that her father had not yet returned from his errand.

During the late afternoon, in a slow period for Tom and Sarah, with lunch over and dinner still a long way off, Thomas burst into the bar, calling to the fisherdogs for help. He motioned for Tom to join them. They braved the storm and went out over the road to the fisherdog's small storehouse on the beach.

Tom had never been inside before, as he joined the huddle, standing amongst the concerned fisherdogs, squeezed into the tight space that reeked of fish. Tom guessed there were thirty or more wedged in the stone-built building. Thomas stood on some stacked boxes and called everyone to order.

"As you know, Captain Brown went off on some errand this morning and is overdue. His boat tracker has not been working since late morning when he should have been meeting the Mer-pod leader Triton."

There was a ripple of concerned whispers, with fisherdogs glancing concerned at each other. Thomas coughed theatrically to quieten the crowd and continued.

"We've not had any response from Triton or any of the Mermen watchers. So we have to consider the worse. I need dogs to walk the coast and look for any signs."

A voice blurted out, "You mean wreckage?"

"We have to consider the worst and hope for the best. We'll set out Eastwards along the coast path and check every cove, cliff and beach, whilst scouring the horizon for his boat."

The crowd all nodded, and a humble ripple of murmurs spread through everyone.

"Nothing is to go beyond these walls, least of all to Margaret and Becky."

Fisherdogs started squeezing past Tom, some already in wet weather gear, others pulling coats on as they ducked outside into the gale. Thomas emerged from the crowd and thrust a coat and hat into Tom's Arms.

"For some reason, I think you should be with us. You were seen talking with the Captain before he left... Is there anything you need to tell me?"

"He admitted Balthazar sent him on this errand, I warned him not to go, we can't trust him."

Thomas's face angered and snarled, "I agree. We'll deal with him later. Come on, the sooner we get out there, the sooner we can get back in the dry. We have more than enough daylight left."

Tom pulled the coat on but had barely got it on before Thomas bustled him out into the rain. They joined a steady line of Fisherdogs walking out to the coast path. Faces peered out of Kitty's pub through the rain drizzled windows, knowing something was afoot.

Tom pulled the hat on, to see Roxy's watching him and gave him an encouraging wave, which he acknowledged with a smile. Staring out of the bar's window was Becky, with tears in her eyes showing that she already knew what was happening. Kitty stood alongside with her arms around her shoulders, comforting her.

Trudging along the incline of the path up the left-hand side of the beach, through the cottages, Tom double-stepped to catch up with Thomas a few steps ahead, as he realised he could assist on a level Thomas wouldn't have considered.

"I assume we couldn't put any boats out?"

"No, he was mad going out. Like you, I warned him against it."

"But you've not been able to contact the Merpeople?"

"No, normally the watchers are around... But not today. They must be in deep water, who knows?"

"What if someone were to swim to find them?"

"They'd be mad... And swiftly dead, look at those breakers."

Beyond the cliffs the sea was storm-tossed, with huge white-tipped waves crashing over themselves and any rock in their way. The pair hurried on, catching up and passing groups of Fisherdogs ahead as Thomas barked at them to spread out and search. They passed the Captain's house and hurried onwards.

As they turned around the headland, they walked headlong into the biting wind. In front of them, in the distance, a Fisherdog burst out of the tree-covered path, waving at Thomas and ran against the flow of fisherdogs spreading out, searching over the cliffs. Panting as he reached them, he pointed out to the white-tipped waves on the horizon.

"A few hours back, Old George swore he saw a flash of light, out by the island... He dismissed it, thinking it was just a sunbeam, cracking through a break in the cloud, way out to sea... But now knowing Top Dog is missing, he's not so sure."

Thomas nodded and patted the out of breath dog on the shoulder. Tom's mind ran...

"The island? Do you mean those rocks out on the horizon that are barely above water at low tide and submerged at high tide?"

"Yes, but we always sail well away from them... The Captain wouldn't have gone close to them in this weather. Low tide was an hour ago, so they would still be above water."

"I can go... I can swim out... Come on."

Tom burst into a run, losing his hat, leaving Thomas to run behind, his shouting barely audible over the wind.

"You can't swim out there, it's too far you'll drown."

Tom ran as fast as his legs could carry him, then dropped to his oddball all fours, running, knowing Thomas would be hot on his heels. They ran through the wood and as they reached the fallen tree, he leapt over it and started making his way down to Mermaid's Cove.

"Tom, you can't do this. It's madness. You'll be dashed against the rocks... We can't have two deaths on our hands. I won't allow it."

Tom was already stepping carefully down the slippery wet steps in the cliff, looking down a now tiny beach, the rocks and cliffs either side being attacked by gigantic waves. Thomas was above him, out of arm's reach. Tom folded the coat up and started stripping his clothes off.

He sought the notch in the cliff with his hands, searching through the long overhanging wet grass. The deep cut in the cliff was still bone dry, and he stuffed his clothes in there as deep as he could. His boots were the last to go in. Standing naked, shivering on the stone steps, he looked up at Thomas, who was still pleading with him, his words lost in the wind.

"Trusts me, Thomas... Wait for me."

He scrambled the last few steps on the loose pebbles, into the foaming water swilling around the edge of the beach. Stepping deeper into the water, the waves tried to pull him deeper. He struggled to hold his position, took one last look at Thomas, and dived into the foaming sea.

As soon as he hit the water, the turbulence exiting the cove pulled him out, churning him over and over like a washing machine. He swam hard to avoid being dashed back onto the rocks, taking the deepest breaths whenever he had the chance. He dived deeper to get out of the waves.

He could barely make it and had to surface to gasp a lung full of air. He saw Thomas standing on the clifftop, searching the spray for him, relieved to see him further out. Tom ducked back under and swam deeper, finding it less turbulent the deeper he went, although strong currents still pulled at him.

The kelp beneath him was almost flat against the sandy bottom as he tried to pair his legs together, wondering how long his tail would take to grow. He almost gave up when he surfaced for another breath, but his legs itched, hinting that the process of tail growth had begun.

It saddened him to see he had barely moved from his last breath, seeing Thomas on the cliff waving for him to return. He was now committed and turned seaward to try once more. As he progressed away from the cliff, the washing machine effect diminished and he felt he was making headway.

Each time he surfaced to breathe, he checked progress, which was slow and tiring, but he was winning against the wind and waves. He kept heading outwards, monitoring the sea bed, hoping for signs that would lead him to the tidal rock island.

As he swam, another problem played on his mind, initially he expected it to be noisy underwater, with the waves pounding the land, but he assumed it would diminish as he swam away from the cliffs... But every time he ducked beneath the water, despite leaving the cliffs further behind, a mish-mash of sounds, with squeaking noises, not unlike dolphins, in the background grew louder.

He could definitely feel the benefit of a tail as he progressed. The sandy bottom gave way to rock rising upwards, signalling he was close. The noise underwater was now hurting his ears. He followed the rock, surface wards but staying clear of the rock, not wanting to get dashed against it in the swirling waters.

His head broke water to see Captain Brown looking as if he were sitting on a wave. When the water receded showed him perched on all fours, clinging to the highest point of rock. Tom swam round to face the captain.

"Hi, how are you?"

"Tom? What the? How did you get out here?"

Tom flicked his tail up above the waves and smiled, as yet another wave washed over the captain, knocking him aside, forcing him to scramble back on the rock pinnacle.

"Captain, how are you?"

"Wet and bloody cold... I've been here for hours."

"It's okay. I'll whistle for Pisces."

Tom waved the shell whistle attached to his neck, but for the Captain to shake his head.

"Don't you think I've tried my own... It's useless, there's too much noise. They can't hear it... Tom, I can't hold on much longer..."

"Is it always this noisy underwater during a storm? And I thought you'd avoid this rock."

"No, it's never that noisy... And I didn't hit this rock... I had to swim here, after something hit my boat, sinking it."

Tom ducked his head underwater again... The noise was painful. He put his fingers in his ears and swum around... It still hurt, but not as painful. The noise was definitely louder on the one side of the rock... Swimming further, he saw something glinting below on the seabed.

As he dived, the noise was unbearable, hurting his head, even with fingers in his ears. The kelp on the sea bed swayed to cover, then uncover the shiny metallic object. It was like an old-style lantern. He reached for it and his hand received an electric-like shock...

He checked his hand. It was okay, not seeing a burn mark. He tried again to realise it wasn't an electric shock. It was a high-pitched vibration... He picked it up and swam for the surface... The vibration was so strong it was giving him pins and needles in his hand and arm... He could barely hold on to it as he rose.

He broke surface twenty feet away from Captain Brown, who was searching for him whilst fighting to hold on to the rock. Tom held the lantern up in the air and ducked only his head under the water... Apart from the slightly louder bubbling and sloshing of the storm against the rock, he heard exactly what he expected without the painful noise.

Tom tread water with his tail, whilst one handheld the lantern out the water and his free hand ran his necklace through his fingers until it found the shell whistle. He placed the tiny tube in his mouth, ducked under the water and blew... Apart from lots of tiny bubbles, a high-pitched whistle that also hurt his ears came out. He blew twice more and then swam to Captain Brown.

"Can you hold this out of the water?"

Tom asked, handing the Captain the lantern.

Captain Brown snarled back, showing his teeth.

"I can hardly hold on myself, let alone collect rubbish off the seabed... Throw it away."