Belief

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Copyright 2000

Pete stared down at the turgid waves washing against and through the Jarlin wall. He admired the way the rectangular gaps in the concrete allowed the waves to break their force through a path of least resistance. On top of the wall was the platform. An oil producing platform. Tens of thousands of tons of concrete sat towering from the seabed, reaching up, stretching slimmer as it rose until it broke free of the water to support the steel topsides. A magnificent construction and a triumph of engineering that Pete stood uncaring on.

He stared again, blinking away the tears the coldness of the wind induced. He shrugged, it was too chilly to linger, and he had another mile to walk. Straightening he strode off around the Moon Pool, counting the times he circled around the void, making for his last mile of the session. He had to laugh at himself. Here he was, bloody freezing doing his distance, simply because he could not stand the sniggers as he fell off the treadmill in the gym. He had tried, really tried, but he just could not get to grips with using the machine. Well, fuck them, he thought he would do his walking in private. There it was again! What was it that kept catching his attention in the froth, the so dangerous froth inside the wall? Annoyed now for allowing himself to be distracted, he leant on the yellow handrail and carefully studied the water.

Fifty feet below the reach of Pete's gaze, Junior Mermaid Marga, slowly exultantly swam. She had him, she had him, she cheered. Ha, she would show them. The jeers rang in her ears yet. Never get, they said. No chance, they said. Too clever, they said. Oh, they had a lot to say, and all because of her bloody eyes. She was a very fine specimen of the Mer species. Very fine indeed. Her breasts were absolutely magnificent, one of the best pairs of her year (if not the best she thought). Even the swimming teacher said so and she was as acid as pure brine. But, the big problem was her eyes. All Mer folk had green eyes: fact. Marga's eyes were seaweed brown. A simple thing that was a source of shame to all her family and she thought ruefully against which her brains counted for naught.

It was time; she shot up through the frothy foam layer created by the aerating of the water surging through the wall. All she needed was the five seconds of eye contact and he was hers.

Yes! He was staring at the water, her tantalizing had worked as she had planned. She shimmied her chest to catch his gaze, and... yes, she had eye contact. She counted mentally, four, five, six, and seven. Oh yes, well and truly, she had him. Now she had to avoid an overdose, damn. With a huge mental effort she broke loose and dived again.

Shaken she recalled her lessons. Hearing about it was one thing, experiencing the near thrall was another. Her nerves jangled throughout her slim body, tingling in protest at the strain she had imposed. Down she swam and deftly out through the wall using the lower level of the perforations, where there was almost no turbulence.

Pete shook his head. He would have a quiet chat with the medic in the morning. With the new health initiative on the go, it would be easy enough to get a check up. He was definitely seeing things. A nude woman in the water when there were no women on board. A woman in the moon pool where swimming was impossible. Therefore it was a fucking mermaid: err no. That was impossible for a start, unlikely for a finish and oh to hell he was off to his bed to try to convince himself he was as sane as he had thought half an hour ago. Oh, but what a pair of breasts she had. No lover of 'big ones' as he thought of them, he had to admit even from 80 vertical floodlit feet they were special. But not real of course, as neither was she.

He blinked away tears as he climbed the interminable stairs to the accommodation from the lower deck. A mermaid: he almost laughed aloud at the memory. He stopped suddenly on a stair tread, half way up a flight. How could he have a memory of Marga the mermaid? Where had the name come from? He was definitely seeing the medic in the şişli escort (https://sislioto.com) morning.

After his shower he went straight to his bunk. He organized himself for some serious self-pleasuring, he had to hand the sexy book and the skin magazine. He played with himself for a while but despite his erection, he just didn't feel that interested. Oh well. With a shrug he put off his bunk light and rolled onto his side to sleep. Her image appeared in his mind as he had expected. Well, how often had he seen a mermaid he thought? Finally, he slept, uneasily though: restlessly.

How he dreamed that night. Erotic dreams, that he had not had since puberty. The real shocker was waking up to find he was coming. It felt as if he was being expertly masturbated, as he shuddered and shot his semen into the bedding. Half asleep he climbed out the bunk, wetted a towel and cleaned the evidence away. Satisfied he clambered back in and tried to sleep again. Something was bothering him, flitting on the edge of his awareness, ah; he gave up and some unhappily went to sleep.

Marga collected her pearls carefully and tied the bag shut. She had found a safe place from which to work Pete. When she was with him she was not really in her body, so a refuge was essential. The sea was ever a dangerous place to be, and even the Mer folk descended from elves as they were; even they had their enemies.

Jim the medic, prodded, probed, and put him through what seemed to Pete to be an exhaustive batch of tests.

" Well, given your age, and that you are an ex smoker I'd say there was still some hope. At least I don't think you are going to die on me just yet." He gave him a friendly slap on the shoulders and sent him on his way.

Back in his office, Pete worried quietly about what he thought he had seen. His duties finished for the day, he had a quick evening meal, changed back into his boots and overalls then set off down the stairs. Glancing down into the Moon Pool as the circular area within the wall was called, he saw nothing but foam and froth. Good, he thought that is just what should be there and bugger all else. Reassured he strode out. He had his distance worked out and knew his four miles would take an hour, then off to his cabin for a nice shower. He almost consciously kept his eyes away from the water. Funny stuff when floodlight: water.

His thought back many years to when he was working on a semi submersible rig. One night there had been serious trouble and he had shared a "Bubble Watch" with the others on his crew. They had had to stand at the handrail of the Moon Pool and look for gas bubbles. After a while the water almost seemed to be calling, to beckon, to invite as a mistress might: seductively. An experience he had almost forgotten about.

Near against his will he glanced down at the surging water. Oh no, not again. There she was smiling up at him, thick long hair looking dry, flaunting her lovely breasts. How was that possible? Oh well, why not he thought resignedly. He waved. She merely enigmatically smiled and dived. He stared at the empty space where she had been. Legs. No tail: legs. And a very pretty bare bottom too. He was definitely cracking up.

Marga counted carefully. She needed fifty pearls to achieve Senior status, and one full-blooded belief. Or a hundred tinges. Plus the vote of course. Well, she had to try, she sighed deeply. The pearls were the easy part, getting the vote with her eyes was near impossible. Tears welled up; she felt it was all just so unfair. She had three pearls from Pete last night. If only he knew, if only. He had felt so warm, so friendly; she had rather enjoyed it. Some seniors had said it was a nasty business the pearl collecting. For her first time, she thought it was quite fun. She had even well, she blushed at the thought, she had found it rather ummm, interesting herself.

The pearls really were neither here nor there. They were the distraction, the bribe. The Mer folk felt that there had to be a gift, a compensation for the mind rummaging they did. It was the mental searching that was the onerous part. istanbul escort (https://vipsevgilim.com) The Merfolk needed belief to survive. It was getting harder and harder to find the belief to harvest. Whilst the subject was being "treated" and thus the guarding part of the brain distracted, the Mer person could search for the hints even the tinges of belief and garner them. When sufficient were harvested the next two lucky Mer folk on the list could mate and produce a youngster. Sadly though such youngsters were now a days all too few.

The Mer folk had learned very early to read Morse code from the Trans Atlantic cables and then later the telephone and radio messages were in clear anyway. As the traffic increased the belief diminished 'pro rata'. A phrase Marga's teacher was very fond of. There seemed to be no answer to this intractable problem. A situation that the finest minds of the Mer folk considered daily.

Her friends had laughed at her as they had all matured and she had matured as the finest of them all. That was when the teasing really had become vicious. Her eyes had become a real issue "pro bloody rata" she thought viciously, as the size of her chest had grown. Now, she thought sadly her tears welling again, she had no friends at all and she was all alone. Even the seals disdained her company. Her resolve not to weep collapsed and in her loneliness, she sobbed.

That night she visited Pete again. Now she had established the link she could visit when she liked, provided he was asleep. She had been some scared the night before and had hurried. She was in no hurry now as she had her confidence established. He breathed a sigh. She flinched at that, suddenly nervous again. Although she was there she was really not, in two places in reality but based in only one as her teacher had put it.

Pete sighed again and half rolled, the duvet sliding off his powerful shoulders. She sighed to herself he was handsome, so handsome. She knelt beside his bunk and eased the duvet away, ah there he was, half erect as her lips enclosed him. She used her tongue gently to erect him.

In the cave, her body her reality, followed these actions oblivious to her surroundings. A more experienced Mer person might have considered with care why such a cave was unoccupied. The massive eel watched Marga with considerable interest. She was wise to the Mer folk, she knew the dangers of them, the steel they carried hurt, she remembered that from her youth, but this one carried no brightness at her side. Also this one seemingly paid no attention to her surroundings, ill perhaps, she wondered, easy prey within her reach she hoped. She had not survived all these years by being impulsive. Oh no, she knew to wait and carefully watch.

Pete woke to his alarm, grabbed his towel and entered the shower. As he shaved he had sleepy memories of a rather good orgasm during the night. As he became more alert, his penis told him quite distinctly that it had seen action very recently. Bemused, Pete finished his ablutions and sure enough as he dried himself off his cock was tender. Curious now, he checked his bedding for tell tale signs but there was nothing to see. Strange indeed he thought.

Marga now had eight pearls to give to the oysters. As they were short lived she swam to the oyster beds where a supervisor took her pearl pouch and deftly popped one into each of eight baby oysters. Marga left very satisfied that Pete's unwitting donation would grow on to become the solid variety the humans so prized. It greatly amused the Mer folk especially the maids, that the "distractions" from the human males were grown into oyster pearls for the adornment of human females.

Forty two and a belief to go. That night emboldened by her run of success she entered Pete's mind. Good grief it was full of rig files and bees. Extraordinary. Oh and what was all this. Marga blushed. Well well, he did, did he, he wrote naughty stories. Hmmm, well she liked a good read and he was sleeping deeply. She giggled: her own personal library. As she read she became rather excited. She completely forgot where mecidiyeköy escort (https://sislimarka.com) she was and why. The watching eel knew exactly where they both were, and it was after all she reasoned, her cave. She sidled out of her interior crevice and coiled silently around Marga.

Marga had found a problem. Yes she could get very excited indeed in this other state. Very, very excited. But, she sighed, she would have to be one to finish herself to a climax. She wanted, she bloody needed a climax after reading his unpublished stories. Wow! She came to herself only to find the eel about to consummate their relationship in a very unloving way indeed. The slimy coils were constricting her chest already.

Marga had trained for years for just this situation that she was now in. She breathed out and twisted suddenly. As neatly as if on the practice ground she slipped free. Just as she was leaving the cave she spun and clouted the eel between the eyes.

"Ha, have that." She grinned at the nonplused beast and swam off to find a safer refuge.

Further down the reef she found a suitable hidey hole which she claimed by marking the outside with her symbol. No other Mer person would intrude on that space now.

She had given Pete a night off to recharge. As he slept she made her way into his mind. She saw again the store of his literature but she hardened her resolve and moved on. She found a door with a huge "?" on it. She carefully entered and there it was. Treasure beyond belief. He believed. She had that most valuable of humans she had a believer. Well almost. It was nearly a finished belief but not quite yet alive, she had studied this deeply. It needed her to complete the construction. Her busy mouth while she was searching through Pete's mind had him just at the point of ejaculation. She eased off and felt his tremors subside. He stirred restlessly in his sleep.

She whispered. "Pete, Pete." He grumbled and turned over on his back. She giggled quietly, his erection was sticking right up and pointing back to his belly. She felt a surge of passion and threw caution to the currents. She straddled him and with one squirm had him netted in her sex.

Pete was having a wonderful dream, a dream of sexual tension and warmth that was just so good. His sleep became shallower, as reality demanded his attention. His penis was sending him urgent signals, high priority signals in fact. He felt odd, constrained, bloody duvet had gotten trapped around him. He tried to shake free but something was even holding his mouth shut. He opened his eyes blearily.

This he decided immediately was a waking nightmare. It had to be. His wife would fucking kill him for a start, and the platform boss would fire him instantly. This was a one way ticket home offence. His cock seriously disagreed. This was as tight and snug and as fucking sexy as all get out he was informed. Get thrusting his cock said. Marga gave his cock a friendly squeeze and leant forward to kiss him. As her slightly salty lips met his, those last ideas about insanity and disbelief went flying. This was really real. Marga bounced slightly, just a little jolt with her hips. He took the hint and thrust, and again and again and off he went in the age old rhythm.

She neatly harvested his belief and triumphantly popped it into her pouch. She bent and kissed him in thanks. He grimaced and she wondered what was ado.

I need my contacts in to see you properly." He explained and Marga met in with tinted lenses for the first time. Her eye colour was going to have a solution after all. Now, as she bounced very happily all she needed was another forty two pearls and all was just fine.

As Pete could only give her so many pearls at a time he had to go home and return before her score was complete. Finally she had her quota and suitably demure (but green eyed) she presented her prize to the elders. They were delighted. She also discovered she was pregnant too. Distracting, should always be done orally she finally remembered.

Pete created a mermaid club on board the platform. Once the members experienced the benefits, the numbers blossomed. Like a secret society it spread across the oil business and wives wondered why husbands were some lackadasicial on their return home.

The Mer folk would survive. Oh, Marga had a bonny bairn with blue eyes. Ah well...