1953 DB
124 years post-integration
Montgomery-Grover Municipal Dockyard, 10:04PM
"You gonna be okay headin back on your own, man?" Jerome asked.
Thomas shrugged, both to show indifference and to adjust the sack slung over his shoulder. "I'll be fine. I'm not about to bother a total stranger just so I can feel a little safer walking home."
"Well that's the point ain't it? In the MGC, guys like us can't afford to stay strangers for long."
"Sage advice, but I can handle myself just fine."
"You sho?"
Thomas slipped his hand inside his coat pocket and gripped a sock full of change. "I'm sure."
"If y'insist," Jerome said. Chains rattled and a padlock clicked as he finished locking the dockyard's front gate. "Catch you tomorrow?"
"If there's still work, you can count on seeing this ugly mug again. Speaking of mugs: you know any soup kitchens that stay open after hours? Never had to work this late before."
Jerome frowned, then shook his head. "Not in Grover. You'll have to jump over to Montgomery if you wantin some cheap food past ten."
"Fuck that. Guess I'll be falling asleep to a grumbling stomach tonight."
"Guess you will," Jerome said, voice straining as he hefted his sack onto his shoulder. "Stay safe, man," he added, raising his free hand in goodbye.
Thomas returned the gesture before leaving. He made his way out of the industrial park, footsteps echoing off of the shuttered warehouse gates flanking the road. The sky was overcast; with no moon glow, the streetlamps created stark islands of yellow light. He followed these islands until he was out of the park and strolling along Grover's northwestern waterfront. Swills of seawater licked the edges of the concrete embankment, and the dim lights adorning the arcs of the Donahue Bridge were reflected on the waves rolling in from the Atlantean Ocean.
Those pinpricks on the water were nothing compared to the show Montgomery put on, however. Gigawatts of light poured out of the skyscrapers that made up downtown, and the cars streaming along the waterfront roads gave the city a belt of glimmering headlamps. Thomas looked out across the bay, sighing as he took in both the city itself and its dazzling reflection in the water. Together, reality and reflection made an image like a garbled sound graph — from the soft tones of the residential neighborhoods to the skyscraping cacophony of the business district. The shining half of Montgomery-Grover City had rightfully earned the backronym Grover residents had given it: Montgomery: Glitz and Carnality.
The carnality half was why Thomas kept a tied-off sock full of pennies in his coat pocket. That, and it served as a handy little stash if he was desperately in need of a couple twenty cent bottles of beer.
Adjusting his sack once more, he continued along the waterfront before strolling into Moss Garden Park, his go-to shortcut for getting onto Mihalis Avenue. Rows of red maple shrubs flanked the park's cracked cement pathway. They rustled in the sea breeze — woody whispers barely drowning out the muffled drone of jalopies trundling up and down Grover's main road. Across the rarely-cut grass, the edge of the park and the side of Mihalis Avenue was marked by a line of two-story commercial buildings. Thomas had made a habit of counting how many along the park still had electricity this late. Tonight it was three. Wonder if we'll ever beat the record of five, Thomas thought as he walked into the park's fountain plaza.
"Excuse me, sir?" a woman said.
Thomas turned and whipped his hand from his coat pocket so fast that the sock came out whirling like a windmill. A woman had risen from behind a line of bushes and, at the sight of Thomas's makeshift slapjack, raised her open hands in a sign of peace. Though she looked harmless and looked like a Grover local — gaunt features, tattered clothes, tired eyes with a sick stare — Thomas kept his weapon raised. Polymorphers were not a thing of fantasy in the MGC, or anywhere else in Amrigo or on Solum for that matter. "What do you want," he asked.
She stepped over the bushes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare—"
"What do you want," Thomas repeated. He took a step back to make up for the distance the woman had covered getting over the bushes.
"I... did you see anyone on your way here?" she asked.
"And if I did?"
"Look, I'm very sorry if I scared you, but I think I'm being stalked and I just need to know if you've seen any seedy people on your way here."
Thomas still hadn't gotten around to the GED, but even he had enough brainpower to catch a whiff of the ol' bullshit. Was he, with his equally tattered clothes and shifty gaze, not a seedy person? Whatever this chick wanted to sell, he wasn't buying it.
The chick herself seemed to have mistaken his silent disbelief for silent consideration. "Please," she said, taking a few steps forward with hands still raised. "Would you at least let me walk with you for a while? Just along Mihalis if you—"
"If you want to follow behind me that's fine," Thomas said, taking an equal number of steps back. "But only if you stomp your feet or make casual conversation so I know you're outside of jumping range."
The woman dropped her hands and frowned. "Why are you so high-strung?"
"You don't take chances in Grover, lady. If you were a local you'd know that. Now I'll just be scooting along, if—"
The woman gasped, hands flying to mouth and eyes widening as she looked at something behind Thomas. Slapjack primed, he spun around to see a wriggling, man-sized silhouette rising above the bushes on the opposite side of the plaza. He had just enough time to puzzle over why the shape had seemed to rise after the woman gasped before he felt a sting on the side of his neck.
He grunted. Fist clenched, he tried to spin and bring the slapjack onto the face of the assailant, but it was no use. Already his savage strike was becoming a lazy arc; his fingers turned soft and numb and the slapjack slipped from his palm and sailed away, landing in a bush with a jingle of change. His sack followed suit, sliding from his drooping shoulders and flopping onto the cement. He managed to turn around and stumble for a moment, giving himself a dimming view of the woman-turned-attacker. Her messy hair was now sleek; her gaunt, frightened face was now soft and confident; and her pale skin was now shining like pearl. Stumbling again, Thomas managed to gurgle out "yyyou biiih..." before he lost both balance and consciousness and fell into her arms.
All twelve of them.
♦ ♦ ♦
When Thomas woke up he knew right away that he wasn't in Grover anymore. He was lying on a feather mattress with a well-fluffed pillow under his head, the lights were dim but not flickering, and even though he was naked he still felt pleasantly warm. After a few blinks to get the bleariness out of his eyes, he also saw he was surrounded by another thing you didn't find very often in Grover: pretty women.
But maybe "women" was being a little generous. All four of them had petite bodies and cheery faces that suggested they were at the very least a year from senior prom. Their youth was also given away by their tight, uniform blouses and the most outrageously short skirts Thomas had ever laid eyes on — he could almost see the beginnings of their thighs. The girls themselves seemed unconcerned with how much leg they were showing, as all of them had their bright eyes fixed on Thomas. Rather, the part of Thomas that was hanging between his thighs. With a grunt of affront he tried to cross his legs and bring his hands down to cover himself. He quickly found that his limbs felt like they belonged to a sloth and, more to the point, were each constricted by a pearly-white, suckered tentacle.
"Awake?"
Thomas craned his neck, looking up and behind to see the owner of the voice gently smiling down at him; it was the woman from the park in her natural form. She had sleek, black, braided hair and skin that was as shiny and white as the tentacles that bound Thomas's wrists and ankles. She was wearing a knee-high ocean-blue dress, but instead of knees marking the fringe of the skirt she had ten tentacles streaming out from underneath.
"Are you awake?" she asked again.
Thomas parted his lips to ask her what the fuck she did to him, but all that came out was a sleepy groan.
"Good, good," she said, her smile widening. "It would be quite counterproductive if I had to teach a lesson with a comatose subject." A few of the girls surrounding Thomas giggled. "Now," the woman continued, "if you'd be so kind as to relax and keep quiet, we can begin."
Thomas made a noise somewhere between a moan and a yawn.
"That's the spirit," the woman said, giving Thomas's wrists and ankles a gentle squeeze with her tentacles. She looked around at her class. "Well, girls? Are you ready?"
"Yes, Ms. May!" they replied, a few practically hopping with excitement.
"Good!" May said, clapping her hands together. "However, before we get into the meat of the matter, I'd like us all to take a moment to appreciate our friend on the bed here." She brought her hands down, resting them on Thomas's shoulders and rubbing them. "A human male: young, warm and terribly in need of attention. Look here..." She raised a tentacle and brushed it along Thomas's torso. He shivered as the smooth, cool appendage slid over his ribs one by one. "See how malnourished the poor dear is? He probably couldn't muster up more than a single shot of ejaculate before he was spent for the night. But don't be discouraged!" May shifted her hands from Thomas's shoulders to his head, gently massaging his scalp. "Once you've taken a mate of your own, it's all too simple to nurse him back to health with your love!
"Now, I'm sure you're all very excited about being able to practice mating techniques on a living, breathing subject, hmm?" This was met with enthusiastic nodding from the girls. "Well, first things first: let's get rid of those restrictive garments, shall we?"
Thomas only had a split second to process what May had implied before the room was filled with the sound of rustling fabric and popping buttons; the girls were all too eager to go au natural. They shrugged off their blouses and let their skirts slide down their slender legs, revealing a rainbow of lacy bras and crotch-hugging panties. Thomas tried to avert his eyes, but no matter how hard he tried, his gaze seemed to fall on another breast, another thigh, another pair of red lips curved in a nervous smile. The girls appeared fully aware of this, giggling and sighing as they made a show of getting out of their underclothes — thrusting out their chests as they unhooked their bras and wiggling their asses as they shimmied out of their panties. By the time the last bra was dropped and the last panty kicked aside, Thomas's dick was erect and gently twitching against his stomach, much to the delight of the girls. Excited whispers and nervous giggles passed between them as they watched with embarrassed smiles.
"Ah... it's even bigger than the practice doll's!"
"I didn't think it would twitch like that — like it's alive..."
"Hm hm, look at his face; he's almost as red as the tip!"
May chuckled. "You're not going to get any meaningful practice if you're just staring at it, girls. Let's get to it! But remember: start off slow and simple. You don't want to scare the poor dear half to death."
Thomas didn't like May's choice of words. If being kidnapped wasn't enough to scare him half to death, he didn't even want to consider what 'slow and simple' entailed. Unfortunately for him, he was about to find out either way.
After quieting down the girls closed their eyes, faces set in concentration. Thomas looked about, uneasy. For a while the girls stood still, their breasts gently rising and falling in time with their breathing.
Then they began to change.
It started with a bruise-like discoloration spreading out from their chests, following the lightning patterns of their nerves and blood vessels before billowing out like ink in water, shifting their skin tones from a natural pale pink to varying shades of green and blue. Once their skin finished turning, they raised their arms and let out a collective sigh that sounded near orgasmic. Thomas's eyes narrowed and he groaned in disgust; all of the girls limbs were morphing into tentacles. Their fingers fused together, their bones and joints faded away, and their hands melted into smooth grasping points that gently wiggled with excitement — an excitement that spread across their bodies in the form of shining sweat on the skin and trickling juices between the thighs.
Once their transformations were complete, the girls stared at Thomas, faces blushing with desire. Even in his near-paralyzed state, his body shook with nerves. He nearly jumped out of his skin when May laid a tentacle on his shoulder. "Sshhh, it's alright," she whispered, the suckers on her tentacle gently pecking at his skin. "None of us have any intention of hurting you, dear. This is purely a learning exercise in..." She nudged the tentacle downwards until a sucker hovered over Thomas's chest. He gasped and flinched with pleasure as the rubbery ring of flesh gave his nipple a tight, sucking kiss."...Interspecies bonding," May finished with a smile. She looked around at her students. "Well girls, go ahead! Explore all you want, but remember: be gentle!"
"Yes, Ms. May!"
Wasting no time, the girls extended their tentacles, letting them snake across Thomas's naked body. He squirmed as the feelers slid across his skin, wrapping around his limbs and licking at the folds of his joints. The slick, wet sounds of their caresses filled his ears, as well as the giggles and sighs of their owners.
"That's it, girls," May said as she held Thomas steady. "Get a feel for him and make yourselves comfortable. Being familiar with your mate's body should always be your first step when courting."
"Oooh, look at how bulgy this part is," one of the girls said as she coiled a tentacle around Thomas's lower leg. "It feels so funny — like hard and soft at the same time."
May nodded. "That's his calf, Holly. A key part of his locomotion and circulation, but also a slight erogenous zone, if you know how to play with it. Does anyone remember the technique we practiced?"
"Oh, me! Me!" another girl piped up.
"Alright Grace," May said, using the tentacle wrapped around Thomas's ankle to lift his leg up for all to see. "Show us how it's done."
With a nod and a smile, Grace brought one of her tentacles up and rested the tip in Thomas's knee pit. "You gotta put it here and stroke up and down from here to here — just above his ankle," she said, demonstrating while she talked. "You'll know you're doing it right when his legs shiver and his toes curl down — just like he's doing now!"
"Excellent, excellent," May said, lightly clapping. "Well said, Grace, but if I were you I'd add a little wiggle to your strokes. To give it that extra touch, hm?"
"What about his penis? Shouldn't we be focusing on that?" One of the girls asked as her feeler scritched across Thomas's pubes. His hips shook as she tenderly wrapped up the base of his dick.
"Now now, Alexia," May said, waggling her finger. "There are more ways to please a man than stimulating his genitals alone. If you want to please your mate, the build-up is just as if not more important than the crescendo. Here, why not take some time to explore?"
With that, May slid her tentacles from Thomas's ankles to his knees. He gave off a quiet "nooo" as she firmly spread his legs, giving the girls a intimate view of his groin.
"There, now see what you can coax out of him without directly touching his genitals. But, ah, please refrain from any 'intrusion.' That's a lesson for AP students only!"
"Yes, Ms. May," the girls said, a few looking a tad crestfallen. Regardless, they sent out the tentacles once again, their feelers overlapping each other as they slathered Thomas's groin with their juices. His legs trembled and his breath came out in shudders while they worked. A few tentacles traced along the creases between his legs and torso, while another tenderly lapped at his inner thigh. Holly seemed to have found a fascination with his taint; she alternated between tracing lazy circles on the sensitive flesh and stroking between anus and sack.
"Mh, I just love how soft his butt is," Grace said as she cupped one of his ass cheeks in a tentacle, squeezing and kneading the flesh.
"Just remember not to slap it, Gracie," one of the girls said. "I've heard most guys aren't as keen on getting spanked as you are."
A chorus of titters and giggles from the girls as Grace's pale green face blushed blue. "Oh, shut up, Lola," she said.
"Come now, girls, be nice," May said, though she was stifling laughter as well. "Also, why don't you make yourselves a bit more comfortable form-wise, hm? I'm sure our friend is getting a bit more used to our bodies."
Another chorus of "yes, Ms. May"s. The girls withdrew their tentacles before closing their eyes in concentration once more. The four of them shared another sensual sigh, and then each of their tentacular arms split in half, giving them four appendages to work with instead of two. Not only that, but another tentacle sprouted from the smalls of their backs like a tail — similar to the others save for a fist-sized bulb on the end covered with suckers.
"That's it," May said, "now give his upper body some attention."
The girls complied, sending out their tentacles once more. Thomas closed his eyes and moaned behind closed lips as they felt up his chest. Some were content to wriggle up and down his sides while others dug into the hairs of his armpits. Both his hands were attacked, the little nubby ends of the tentacles sliding between his fingers and tickling his palms by gently tracing the lines in the skin. It made Thomas's entire arm shiver — he had never realized how damn sensitive his palms were, especially along those indents.
Two of the girls decided to use their tail-tentacles on his nipples. They latched the suckers onto the sensitive glands before sucking with all their might, the tiny cups of the suckers wriggling about in excitement. The feeling of the suckers' bumpy insides gently pinching and vibrating against the tips of his nipples was like an electric shock to Thomas — his eyes flew open and he let out a weak, shuddering moan as his heart fluttered in time with the exquisite stimulation.
"Very good, you two," May said, "I see you were paying attention when I was calming him — he seems to have quite the sensitive chest, doesn't he?"
Both girls smiled and nodded as they continued to tease Thomas for all he was worth. By then his body was so wracked with pleasure that he felt like he was on the verge of orgasm even though they had barely brushed over his cock. He opened his mouth, trying to plead for release, but all that came out were more moans and groans. It was maddening how the girls seemed to be touching everywhere except for his twitching cock; he knew that just one stroke of the shaft, one suckered kiss on the glans, or one squeeze of the head would push him over the edge. Instead they were content to stay with suckling his nipples, massaging his muscles, tickling his ears, and rubbing his hands and feet. He flitted his eyes around, trying to convey his overwhelming need through a scattered gaze, but he found no recognition from May or the students — only eyes glazed with lust, green skin shining with sweat, bare pussies dripping with juices. In time, even his eyes refused to cooperate, drifting upwards as the conflicting sensations of pleasure and denied release wrecked his will.
Mercifully, it seemed that was enough to finally catch May's attention. "Alright girls," she said, "I think it's time for the finale. Grace, as a reward for demonstrating a previous lesson for us, I'll let you do the honors."
"Thank you Ms. May!" Grace said with a squeal of happiness. She withdrew her feelers and lifted up her tail-tentacle. After shutting her eyes in concentration, the end of her tail melted down, morphing into a flower-like organ that dripped with musky juices. As May and the three other students held Thomas's trembling body steady, Grace hovered the 'flower' upside down over his twitching cock. Strands of juice leaked out of the quivering opening — sliding off its bumpy, bright-pink insides and stretching down onto Thomas's exposed groin. The liquid was comfortingly warm against his skin, and every droplet that slid down his shaft was like a tiny, teasing lick serving as a taste of what was to come.
"Uhm," Grace said, her voice breathy with anticipation. "C-Could one of you hold his penis straight up? It's more enjoyable that way, I think..."
"Sure thing, Gracie," Lola said, wrapping a tentacle around Thomas's base and pointing him upwards. Even that gentle guiding touch was almost too much for him — he could feel a ball of pressure building within as his legs trembled in the vice of so many gripping tentacles. He whined with need, head slowly tossing from side to side as he wordlessly begged for sweet relief.
Grace giggled, her blushing face fixed on Thomas's as her tentacle-pussy swayed hypnotically above his cock, shifting about as if searching for the perfect approach. Eventually, it found it.
Without a word of warning, Grace forced her tentacle downward, sucking up Thomas's dick in one wet, squelching motion. His back arched and he gasped in ecstasy as the fleshy petals of the organ twisted and wriggled down his shaft, gobbling up his length until they rested on his pubes. The warm, pulsating interior drew him up even further with an intense milking motion, lodging his glans deep inside the organ before a multitude of nubs and suction cups latched onto every exposed inch of his cockhead, teasing and kissing the sensitive flesh with intimate precision. With one final cry and feeble buck of the hips, Thomas climaxed, a glob of cum spurting from his cock in one, extended jet. For a moment he could feel his own warmth swirling around the head of his dick. Then, with a moan of relish, Grace began sucking up his seed, her organ frantically pulsating as it coaxed out another spurt from Thomas's throbbing cock. There was a heavenly feeling of suction as the nubs and suckers of her insides massaged him from base to tip, making the most of what he had to offer and lapping up what he managed to provide.
But, after one last shuddering gasp and one last leaking spurt, Thomas was spent. The tension began to flow from his body: his back straightened out as he sank back into the bed, his toes and fingers uncurled as his limbs went limp, and his breathing slowed from harsh pants to sleepy murmurs. He flinched as Grace withdrew her tentacle-pussy, the organ making a lewd schlop as its petals spread out and released Thomas's dick. It flopped out, slick and shining with her juices but spotless when it came to cum — Grace hadn't let a single strand go to waste.
The other girls, May included, followed Grace's lead. They let go of Thomas, bringing back their tentacles and letting him lay bare on the feather mattress.
"Very well done, Grace," May said, "I think he enjoyed that just as much as you did."
"I... kinda doubt that," Grace said with a dopey, blissful smile on her blushing face.
"But we're not done yet, are we?" Alexia asked.
May nodded. "Certainly not. We can't just leave our poor friend like this, can we girls?"
"No, Ms. May!"
"Right! A proper lady would never leave her husband in such a state." May paused, extending six of her tentacles behind her and retrieving several damp towels. She distributed them amongst her students. "As you've just seen, intercourse between a man and his tentamorph lover can be quite messy — it's why many of your wonderful kind prefer love-making in a shower. Personally, I find the idea of hygienic aftercare quite appealing, so I've included it in this lesson. Any objections?" The girls shook their heads. "Wonderful! Let's begin!"
Thomas didn't have a chance to object. Not that he was in any position to complain — he did feel terribly unclean with so much slime, sweat, and juices covering his body. He closed his eyes and gave off another sleepy groan as the tentacles descended upon him once more, this time with their slimy feelers wrapped up in soft, cleansing cloth. They slid across his sticky skin, soaking up the juices and leaving behind a faint smell of lilac — scented oils in the fabric, perhaps. Whatever it was, it was also making him drowsy. He yawned.
"Sleepy?" May asked.
Thomas grumbled and turned his head away.
"Mhmhm, no need for such stubbornness, dear," she said, resting her hands on his shoulders and giving them another rub. "There's nothing wrong with taking a well-earned rest."
Thomas had half a mind to fight to stay awake just to spite her, but it was a losing battle considering that he wasn't just fighting against her — he was fighting against his exhaustion, his mental weariness, and the soothing touch of the students, all at once. Another half-groan, half-yawn slipped out of him; he wasn't going to last long.
"That's it, girls," May said, "focus on the muscles. While it might be enticing to play with his erogenous zones again, it's important to remember that your first mates will be even more inexperienced with this kind of lovemaking than you, so give them time to recuperate. The more you train and nurture them, the longer they'll be able to last, right?"
"Yes, Ms. May!"
The girls continued their massage, but the feeling of their clothed tentacles running over Thomas's skin started to dull. With a sigh, he flopped his head back onto the pillow and let his eyelids slide shut. His hearing began to fade as well, conversations registering as nothing more than brief snatches of topics: human sleep patterns, comfortable sleeping postures, how to create a makeshift bed out of your tentacles. The last thing Thomas registered was May asking the students to give him a great big thank you for his participation in the night class.
By the time they offered him that great big thank you, he was asleep.
♦ ♦ ♦
The "tentamorphs" were gone when Thomas woke up. They were gone, but he could still feel the smooth, cool touch of their tentacles all over his body — so striking was the memory of their caresses.
It was only after he tried to move that he realized he was just feeling the smooth, cool touch of May's tentacles wrapped around his body. She had tussled him up and squeezed him tight like a man-sized teddy bear and, judging from the nippy air tickling his sweaty forehead, had turned down the room's heater just so she'd have the good-Samaritan excuse to hold him like that. Unbelievable."Hey," Thomas said, voice a bit raspy.
May woke up with a soft yawn and a flutter of eyelashes. She glanced down at Thomas, a smile spreading on her sleepy face. "Goood mooorniiing," she whispered, reaching down and gently brushing her fingers through his bed head.
Thomas grimaced and shook his head. "Don't touch me."
"I'm sorry dear, but you're such a touchable person. I'm sure my students would agree with me; you did wonderfully last night."
"Don't. Touch. Me."
May sighed, withdrawing her hand. "Was it really that awful?
"You kidnapped me."
"You looked like you were having quite the time when Grace finished you off..."
"You fucking kidnapped me!"
"And if you don't mind me saying, you have the most adorable sleeping face I've ever se—"
Thomas cried out in frustration, thrashing inside May's tentacles. "Are you even listening? You fucking kidnapped me! My basic human rights and my rights as an Amrigan citizen have been violated, and you're acting like I should be all smiles about it! This is un-fucking-believable! And let me go, for 'Xander's sake!"
"Hey! I understand you're upset, but never speak the hero's name in vain!" Regardless of her offense, she unwound her tentacles.
Thomas wiggled free before shoving himself up off the bed, covering his privates with a hand and furiously mumbling about how he would chew up the hero's name and spit it out like yesterdays tobacco. He looked around the room. "Where the fuck are my clothes?"
"There," May said, pointing a tentacle at a desk chair behind Thomas. He turned to see a pair of hole-less pants and an oil stain-free button-up shirt hanging off the backrest. A pair of shiny loafers were lying on the seat.
Thomas turned back to May. "Those aren't my clothes."
"They are now."
"I'm not interested in your damned handouts. Give me back my clothes and let me get back home."
May raised an eyebrow. "Grover? That ghetto? You think that's a home worth going back to?"
"It's been my home for the past twenty-five years, and it's damn-well going to stay my home!" Thomas said, punctuating "damn" with a stomp. "If think I'm going to forgive and forget this bullshit and become your little boytoy over a clean pair of pants, you've got another think coming!"
"It's not just pants, dear. It's three meals a day. It's central heating. It's protection. All if you agree to be my teaching assistant. That's all I ask."
When Thomas spoke, the rasp had left his voice, replaced by a subtle shudder that was the only vocal hint of his bottled-up fury: "You're asking me to be a prostitute. It's as simple as that, and my answer is even simpler: no. Now give me my damn clothes and let me get back home."
May watched Thomas for a while, head tilted ever-so-slightly. "You'd really give up a chance at a life of comfort? Just over baseless pride?"
For a moment, Thomas looked like he was ready to explode, his fists shaking and veins subtly popping on his brow. But then his shoulders sagged, his head fell, and he heaved out a tired, defeated sigh. "I'm not here to demonstrate the hardiness of human men. I did enough of that over in Ageno in '44. I just want to go home and forget this ever happened. Not like I could even go anywhere if I wanted justice." Thomas raised his head, fixing his tired eyes on May. "So just give me back my clothes and let me get back to Grover."
After a moment's pause, May stood up, tentacles wiggling about in rhythm as she slowly propelled herself over to Thomas. He did not back away. She stopped in front of him and rested a hand on his head. He grimaced, but stood firm. As May smoothed out his hair, she spoke. "Tell you what: why don't I give you—"
"It doesn't matter how much time I think on this, lady. My answer's going to stay the same."
"I'm just putting the offer out there, dear. A week. I'll give you that long to change your mind before my generosity is directed elsewhere. Does that sound fair?"
Thomas frowned, looking like he was ready to start another tirade about 'generosity.' Instead he closed his eyes and sighed. "Deal."
May withdrew her hand. "And could you at least take—"
"No. Absolutely not. Wearing those in Grover would be like wearing a giant patch that says 'I sold my body and I'm not ashamed.' Like I said, I'm just going to pretend this never happened."
"Very well." May squelched over to a dresser and pulled out a drawer, fetching Thomas's jeans, shirt, coat, work boots, and underclothes. She handed them over and he dressed as quick as he could.
"Any chance you saved my slap?" he said as he popped his head out of his shirt. "I had enough change in that thing for three brewskies at least."
"It should be in your sack, which should be just inside the front door."
"Good. I'll probably need it for the hike back anyways."
"I'd be happy to walk you back."
Thomas waved away the offer. "I can handle myself just fine. And before you say something about last night, things are different in the daylight and I know which neighborhoods I should stick to on the way back. Now I'll just be scooting along, if you don't mind."
"Alright," May said, moving back. "Stay safe, and I hope you reconsider."
"Yeah, yeah. Hope in one hand n' all that." Thomas adjusted his coat before walking to the door without a second glance at May. He was halfway through opening the door when she spoke up again.
"Wait, mister..."
"Just call me Joe."
"Joe... how many times has something like this happened to you?"
Thomas paused for a long time, contemplating the shining doorknob in his hand. "How many times..." he mumbled.
Finally he turned his head back at May. "Counting what the brass did while I was marching through Ageno..." He paused. Frowned. Then shook his head. "Nah. Nah, like I said, I'm just pretending these things... never happened."
With that he stepped out and shut the door behind him.
