That Old, Familiar Feeling Ch. 04

Author's note:

Welcome to part four of six in this tale of an unusual relationship between consenting adults. I wish to express my gratitude for the generous feedback so far - your comments are really a boost, so thank you again. And thanks also to the author Karaline for her help with editing.

*****

Monica faced the Daemonic Voltometer, hands shaking. She didn't know if it was nervousness at having to take her reading again, or restlessness caused by two weeks of unsatisfied arousal.

Should she hope for a high measurement or a low one?

A high measurement would support her theory that strong arousal produced more Daemonic energy, and then what? Would her Master keep her in a state of denial even longer, hoping for greater gains?

Two weeks of frequent stimulation and heightened lust with no relief had changed her. It was hard to fall asleep at night after their erotic bed-time sessions together. She was tired in the mornings, which made it harder to do the tasks Master assigned her each day. Emotionally, going without release made her crave his contact even more and she followed him around like a puppy, eager for a warm hand on her arm, a hug or a familiar pat on her bare bum. Her hungry pussy made its presence known at all times, pulsing and aching, always wet. The orgasm she couldn't have was never far from her thoughts.

But a low measurement of her Daemonic energy might not be any better. Would it cause him to re-double his efforts to push her arousal higher? Or worse, would he back off and take his research in a different direction? As much as she longed for relief, she wouldn't trade it for the sexy, passionate nights she shared with her Master - nights that left both of them sweat-soaked and entwined in damp sheets scented by their lovemaking. His zealous attention to her arousal wasn't something she'd give up, at any price.

She took a breath and then grabbed the copper handles. The silver needle bounced, coming to rest on 'three'.

But when she thought about it, hadn't the needle spiked higher than that? Maybe 'three' was the resting state of the needle, but surely her Master wanted to know the highest number the needle had hit. And that had been...what? It was such a thin needle, and the white background of the Voltometer made it tricky to read, especially when the needle jumped around so quickly.

It was probably a 'seven' at it's highest point, at least. Maybe an 'eight'. Her previous reading had been a 'five', so 'eight' wasn't unreasonable. Yes, she'd definitely seen it hit an 'eight', when she thought about it a little more.

"Eight this time," she said, once Master had come back from outside. Again she was alert for any telltale sign that he was disappointed in the reading, and again his face revealed no particular reaction.

"It's going up," he said, patting her naked rear end affectionately. He'd been doing that a lot since they'd started sharing a bed, and it delighted her. She loved that he felt comfortable touching her so casually.

He used to be more reserved, more 'proper' around her. But just as she'd worked the last two weeks to discard her former 'human' inhibitions, he'd worked hard to grow into his role as her Knight-Observer, her Master. He was more assertive now and expressed his wishes more freely. It pleased her how easily the two of them were meshing; how well they complimented one another. The Pact had produced a truly remarkable bond between them.

He went to the living room to record the result and she followed.

"What do you think that means?" she said.

"Well, it went from 'five' to 'eight'. That's a sixty percent increase in just two weeks. It's clear we're doing something right, wouldn't you say?"

"I have been awfully aroused. Maybe there really IS a correlation."

"It's looking more likely, anyway. We'll keep testing for it."

She sighed, resigned. "So you want to stick with the 'no climax' rule?"

"Let me think about it," he said, sitting on the couch and pulling her down onto his lap. "I suppose I don't need to guess your opinion on the matter?"

She snugged into his body, enjoying his warmth against her bare skin. "Anything you decide is fine, Master. I know how important this is to you."

He reached around her and ran his palm over her erect nipple. The ever-present arousal spiked up a notch at his touch. "Is everything ready for tomorrow?"

"We've got all the groceries we need. The place is clean enough for company, and I made up the guest room just in case they'd rather not stay at a hotel," Monica said. "Gwen and Rikka should have a good visit."

Gwen was the daughter of the recently-departed Knight Samuelsson, a friend of Garnet's grandfather. And Rikka had been his Daemon Familiar. Having Rikka meet Garnet had been Samuelsson's final wish.

Daemon Monica didn't have any reason to suspect there would be a problem, although she couldn't shake the remnant of Human Monica's anxiety about the planned meeting - she'd never liked strangers or new experiences. Regardless, it was happening, and she was determined to be at her Master's side when it did.

"I'm sure it will be a great visit, with how hard you're worked," he said. His reassuring words brought a smile.

"How did you want me to dress?"

The idea of putting on clothes seemed almost novel after two weeks of nudity. She knew Master enjoyed the sight of her naked body and Daemons had no use for modesty so it had been an easy choice.

"Maybe a dress? Something a little fancy but still human-appropriate. Everyone might be more comfortable that way."

She nodded. His attention to her nipple was driving her to distraction. Human Monica had never been so lusty.

"Will you want to take her measurements? Rikka's, I mean?"

He chuckled. "That might be a little intense for a first meeting. I don't have a specific agenda. We'll see what Gwen and Rikka want to discuss and go from there. If nothing else, I'm hoping it will be a pleasant lunch and a chance to meet another Daemon - and the daughter of one of grandfather's friends."

"I doubt they're driving four hours just for lunch. They must want something."

"Maybe. But Gwen wouldn't get into it over the phone, so we don't have any choice other than to be good hosts and see what they want."

She nodded and let the matter drop. She'd have her answers soon enough.

*

Master went to the gym that afternoon, leaving her with a brief schedule for his absence. One o'clock, Yoga. Two o'clock, an internet cooking show she enjoyed. Two-thirty, clean the oven. He'd be home shortly after that.

Far from being put off by the assignments, she was happy to know how he wanted her to spend her afternoon. It gave structure to an otherwise empty time. The alternative - lifeless, meaningless hours without him - was far worse.

Even with the work he suggested, she found his absence painful. When he was with her, his energy shimmered and rippled through the house, infusing it with life and filling her with vigour and happiness. When he was gone, the empty house was a void that leeched away her essence and filled her up with an existential dread. A few times he'd returned home to find her huddled on the loveseat in tears; the result of staring too long into the abyss.

His tasks didn't make the time more pleasant, but did hurry it along. Without distraction, each moment dragged on for an eternity. With his wishes to focus on, though, there was a chance he'd be back before his absence became debilitating.

Gym days weren't too awful - just two, maybe three hours. Manageable, if torturous. But his shifts at the Big Deal grocery store were the worst. A single shift was seven hours, and sometimes he had to double-shift to cover short-staffing. Fourteen hours without his presence was a marathon of despair.

She wished he would quit his job. Bill's pension could support them both, albeit modestly. But Garnet was making payments on his late grandfather's condo as well, and that required a more substantial income. She didn't understand why Master still needed the condo - she was happy to share her house, and he spent most nights there anyway. Sentimental reasons, perhaps. A few times she'd raised the idea of selling the condo but he hadn't seemed enthusiastic about it and she didn't want to drive him away with endless nagging.

For now, she'd have to endure the time without him, and keeping her mind and body occupied the whole time was vital. She hurried to set out the Yoga mats and switched on the TV. Time to get busy.

*

That night she climbed into bed, naked as always, and lay on her back. Her legs parted automatically, making her newly-shaven sex more accessible to his fingers. He was already there, lying on his side with his head propped up by his hand, looking down at her with hungry, attentive eyes. She gazed back, ready and eager for whatever his wishes might be. Her heart was already racing in anticipation.

She felt his fingertips between her labia, gathering wetness that he applied to her swollen clit with gentle, skillful caresses. He'd become a virtuoso in just two weeks, knowing where to touch her, and how hard, and for how long.

"Eight," she whispered. Counting off her rising arousal had become second-nature by this point.

"I was thinking of changing how we test the relationship between arousal and Daemonic energy," he said in a low voice. His fingers continued their magic as he spoke. "If all we do is push your arousal higher, we really won't be able to tell if your increases in Daemonic energy are arousal-related or if they're rising for some other reason. We need a control to be sure we're measuring the right thing."

"Nine, Master," she said as her hips squirmed under his touch. "What...did you have in mind?" It was hard to breathe and talk and think all at the same time.

"I'm proposing we have a two-week window where we aggressively build your arousal. Call it a 'build' phase, and then a one-week period where we allow that pent-up arousal to release. Call it a 'control' phase. We'll take energy measurements at the end of each week. If we see higher readings after your 'build' phase and lower readings after your 'control' phase, we can be more confident in a correlation."

"What...do you mean by...release?" She was panting now, losing herself to the sensations cascading through her sex, but that one word had jumped out at her.

He smiled down at her. "I mean climax." His grin turned mischievous. "Of course, if you're not interested in that sort of thing..."

"Ahhh...pause...pause Master," she gasped and his fingers left her clit and stroked her labia and thighs with feather touches as she fought for control. "Oh, that would feel SO good. When can I start my 'control' phase?"

"Why not tonight?"

Her eyes widened. It was too good to be true! She'd never had an orgasm with him before, despite her near-constant, urgent desire to do so.

"So tonight you'll let me..."

His smile broadened and he nodded. "And every night this week."

She pulled his face down for a sloppy kiss. His fingers found her clitoris again and she moaned into his open mouth.

"I want it to be with you inside me," she breathed.

"Okay," he said. "Soon. We have all night."

"Mmm. Pause." His fingers had her on the razor's edge and she had to deep-breathe to hold back the glorious orgasm that lurked close by.

Rather than return to her labia, he nudged her inner thighs with the side of his hand and she spread her legs wider still. He wet his fingers inside her again, then moved lower. Slippery fingertips stroked her rear hole, assailing her with a new and unexpected wave of sensation.

He'd never touched her there during their lovemaking, although he took her temperature rectally on a daily basis. The feel of the smooth thermometer gently sliding past her tight ring of muscle never failed to fire her arousal and she began to wonder if his finger would have the same effect.

She didn't wonder for long. The tip of his wet finger was prodding, pressing into her. She relaxed to allow him entry and he slid in to the first knuckle. The shallow penetration triggered a whole different set of nerve endings, flooding her lower regions with new kinds of pleasure.

"Oh, yes..." she hissed.

"No pain?" His eyes read hers, searching for any sign of discomfort.

She shook her head. "Move it a little."

He started a subtle in-and-out motion with his fingertip, never going too deep, focusing his attention on the tight anal ring of muscle. At the same time, she lowered her fingers and began to touch her clitoris. The twin sensations seemed to amplify one another and she struggled to hold off her peak - she didn't want her first orgasm with him to be like this, but she didn't want to stop the incredible pleasure she was feeling, either.

"Oooh, pause," she groaned, and his finger left her. His hand stroked her inner thighs.

"You're so tight there," he whispered.

"Now, Master? Please?" she whimpered.

He nodded and positioned himself above her. She wasted no time in guiding his erection into her dripping pussy. He pushed in gently to half-way, then slowly withdrew and his next stroke filled her completely. When he began a series of long, slow strokes she knew her control was failing. She grunted and lifted her hips with each thrust, her inner muscles grabbing and clenching. She had passed the point of no return.

"Can I go to a 'ten', Master?" she said, knowing he'd allow it but wanting to hear it out loud, a final reward for all her torment and self-discipline.

"Yes. Do it."

Everything locked. Her muscles went rigid, breath left her lungs in a rush as her diaphragm tightened. Time froze. And then white-hot pleasure erupted deep inside her sex, battering her body in ecstatic waves. Her inner muscles gripped and released, spasming uncontrollably. Orgasmic joy hit her so hard she was left without thoughts. Dark spots danced before her eyes until her body remembered how to breathe again.

Her body was burning hot and soaking wet. Her skin dripped with perspiration, her thighs and buttocks were soaked, the bed sheet under her was drenched. Had she lost control of her bodily functions? At that point she didn't care. The after-shocks rolled in, one after another, mini-orgasms that made her gasp and moan and shake.

And then it was all she could do to breathe. She was dimly aware that her Master had rolled off her and lay on his side again. Had he come inside her? She couldn't be sure - her own climax had been all-encompassing. She lay still and breathed deep, ragged breaths.

She had no idea how much time passed before she was able to re-assemble enough of her consciousness to put words together again.

"We...we can do this...all week?"

He laughed, short on breath himself. "Absolutely."

She sighed, an exhausted, dreamy smile on her face. "I love you, Master."

*

She awoke from a deep, deep slumber. She was alone - somehow he'd managed to rise without waking her. The clock on the night table read ten thirty-three. How had she slept so late?

Then she became aware of other sensations. The bedsheets were still damp and smelled strongly of her juices and their combined sweat from the night before. They'd have to be changed today. She snuggled down and breathed deeply through her nose, enjoying the remnants of their lovemaking.

Master appeared in the doorway with a mug of coffee, and seeing her awake, he sat on the edge of the bed. She shimmied into a seated position, sheets bunched around her waist, and he pressed the mug into her hand. An incredible orgasm followed by coffee service the next day? If this was her 'control' phase, she hoped it would never end.

"Gwen and Rikka should be here by noon. Probably time to think about getting up," he said, stroking his fingertips over her forehead, brushing black-and-silver hair away from her eyes.

"I can't believe I slept in."

He shrugged. "No reason not to. You work hard around here - why not enjoy a little extra time in bed?"

"Because it's no fun if you're not here, too."

"Well, the coffee wasn't going to make itself."

"I'll take you over coffee any day."

"Why choose one, when you can have both?" He leaned in and kissed her forehead. He smelled clean - he'd showered already.

"You seem ready to go. Excited by the chance to meet Rikka?"

"Very much. I don't know what to expect, but it's a huge opportunity. And Gwen's bringing over all her father's journals, so that will be a gold mine of information."

"It will be interesting, that's for sure. They're the first visitors at the house since...well, since you."

"If you start to feel anxiety, you can excuse yourself and come upstairs."

"You're thinking of Human Monica," she said. "Daemon Monica doesn't suffer from anxiety - she's perfectly healthy. My place is at your side, Master."

He smiled. "Well then, Daemon Monica had better jump into the shower and get into her dress. It's 'show time' in a little over an hour."

*

The SUV pulled into the driveway. Monica could see through the bay window a blonde forty-something woman was driving, while a smaller, younger-looking woman sat on the passenger side.

Master went out to meet them. The blonde woman got out of the car. They shook hands. The two of them spoke for a few minutes.

The woman in the passenger-side seat didn't move the whole time, didn't turn her head, and made no effort to get out of the car.

Master's gestures were becoming more animated, and the blonde woman shook her head, lips pursed. There was clearly a disagreement. Monica considered going out to see what was happening, but Daemons didn't like to leave their territories. She decided to watch through the window.

The passenger still hadn't moved a muscle.

The blonde woman walked to the back of the SUV and opened the hatch. She dragged out plastic storage bins, one after the other - five in total, piling them at the side of the driveway. All the while, Master continued to talk to her. When he faced the window, Monica could see the displeasure written on his face.

She'd never seen that look on him. She felt uneasiness welling up inside her.

The woman opened the back door and dragged out a large, floral-print suitcase, followed by another all-black one, and set them next to the plastic bins. Finally, she opened the passenger door.

The passenger didn't move, even then.

It wasn't until the woman had un-done the passenger's seat belt and started tugging her arm that the passenger slid off the seat and stepped out of the car. The woman led her to the side of the driveway, next to the suitcases and let go of the younger woman's arm. The younger woman stood quietly, unmoving, next to the luggage and storage bins.

Master followed the blonde woman, continuing an impassioned conversation as she closed the passenger door and the rear hatch, then got back behind the wheel. They spoke for a few more minutes through the open window on the driver's side.

And then the SUV pulled out of the driveway and drove off. Master stood at the end of the driveway and watched it go, his face disbelieving. Only when the car had disappeared from view did he turn around and regard the young woman, who hadn't moved.

He approached her and Monica saw him saying something. There was no reaction from the woman. He took her gently by the arm and she allowed him to guide her toward the front door. Monica met them there.

He was angry. One look in his eyes told her that, and it made her want to run and hide. She'd never seen him angry before, and even though she knew the anger wasn't directed at her, it distressed her.

"This is Rikka. Please lead her up to the guest room," he said, and his tone left no room for argument.

It was strange - and a little scary - to touch another person who wasn't Bill or her Master. How long had it been? But she didn't dare balk at the instruction and took Rikka's arm as he had done and gave a gentle pull. The young woman - young Daemon, rather - let herself be led slowly to the stairs, and then up to the guest bedroom. Monica got her seated on the edge of the bed. She had lovely, red hair with a streak of silver at her left temple. She wore a green, long-sleeved cotton shirt and black yoga pants, and Monica could see that Rikka was petite even compared to her, and looked fragile.