Mad Monk's Priory

It was almost enough to forget about what she had seen just a day before. She leaned across the center console, kissing her husband and asking, "Wouldn't you rather... eat at home?" In answer, he spun the tires turning onto the highway out of the B&B gravel drive.

Chapter 5

Karen was mumbling and tossing in her sleep when Tague's alarm rang on Monday. He knew she was not due at the hospital until later, so he checked that her alarm was set, then dressed and headed south to work. She had seemed very stressed when he had picked her up, but had bounced back quickly. He often wondered how she could see the horrible injuries people inflict on themselves and each other and still be so open and happy. He had expected small town emergency medicine would be much less harrowing than what she had already endured in training.

Back in their master bedroom, Karen's murmuring had increased. The duvet and sheet were yanked off, exposing her body in the sleep shorts and T-shirt she had worn to bed. The temperature in the room plummeted, darkness building like smoke, swirling at the foot of the bed into an almost human shape. Glowing red lights sparked into existence where eyes would be, and the organized smoke moved to the side of the bed. The skin of Karen's bare inner thigh dimpled, the point of pressure rising, sliding beneath the hem of her shorts. She shivered and moaned.

The fabric of her shorts puckered, precisely over the top of her sex, while the clear imprint of fingers marked the shirt over her left breast, squeezed once, possessively, then circled a path around her nipple which immediately began to tent the thin cotton. The sleeping woman moaned again, pressing her shoulders into the mattress, which pushed her chest into the ephemeral touch. A slash of black and bright yellow opened beneath the glowing red points.

"Feel good?" Tague's voice in Karen's dream and the room where she slept.

"Yesss!" one hand dropped, failing to catch the phantasmic hand skillfully playing with her sex through the sleep shorts. Failing that, her own fingers went to work, allowing the ghostly hand to begin working her other already aroused nipple. Her skin flushed with arousal, eyes fluttering behind closed lids. The fabric of her shorts where her fingers were tracing up and down was visibly wet.

"You want it? Want me?" Tague's voice, again. Karen nodded, still dreaming.

"Yesss," she husked, "Don't tease." Smoke swirled, her shorts yanked right out from beneath her teasing fingers down her legs to her ankles. Karen bent her knees, offering her sex to her hand and the apparition. An invisible knee depressed the mattress just inside of her left knee.

DING-DONG, DING-DONG! Karen's eyes flickered open.

"B'lyad," Tague's voice cursed, and the swirling smoky darkness receded, the glowing red eyes and black fringed yellow mouth were the last to vanish, after Karen was awake, looking around their bedroom in confusion.

"Tag?" She looked down at her semi-nude body, her fingers still working her wet sex. "Tague?" She was sure she had just heard him.

DING-DONG, DING-DOING!

The Water! She reached down, yanking her shorts up, and looked in vain for a robe or Tague's shirt from the day before, then rushed out to the front door, not wanting to miss out getting their water turned on. She opened the door a crack to see a heavy-set middle-aged man with graying curly brown hair starting down her steps.

"Wait!" she opened the door more widely, "I'm sorry, I was asleep." The man's shoulders heaved with a dramatic sigh before he turned, and she could almost hear him, 'some of us don't get to sleep in.' He seemed frozen, though, when he completed his turn, blinking repeatedly, mouth slightly open. "Please?" Karen implored, "We've been without water for a week. Do you need to come inside to do anything?" That man was still staring at her as if he did not understand. Abruptly he shook his head, glancing down at the clipboard in his meaty left hand.

"Uhm, no," he shuffled his feet, seeming unable to look up at her, "Mrs... Kennedy?"

"That's right. Thank you so much for coming out." She did not like overhyping what he was doing... they should have been out before the weekend. But it did not hurt to be nice.

"No, I, uh, I don't need to come in. I just needed to make sure someone was home," he stammered and Karen nodded. He licked his lips nervously. "Uhm, I'll be done in a second. But you'll want to run your faucets to get air out of the lines. I always say turn everything on, then turn it off starting low and working upstairs." Karen nodded. "Oh, and run the water through your refrigerator water tap for three or four minutes, too." He looked up at her for just the briefest moment, shook his head slightly, and looked right back down at the clipboard. "I don't need to... you'll hear when the water starts to flow." He started down the stairs again, then paused, turning back, looking over her head. "Do I need to call the electric company for you?"

"No," she frowned, "I mean, thank you for offering, but we have power." He nodded, nearly tripping as he backpedaled down the stair. She closed the door, wondering just what was wrong with the man.

And found herself looking at her reflection. Her hair was more than damp, like she had been exercising. And her clothes... Karen groaned. The guy had seen her shirt so damp her nipples were plainly visible, and there was a clear line of wetness at the front of her shorts. She threw the deadbolt, remembering asking if he needed to come inside.

"What the fuck, Karen," she growled to herself. She had thought maybe Tague had pulled her shorts down as some weird trick. She was sure she had heard his voice, saying something weird-- not English.

Clutching her arms around her torso, she set about getting the faucets on, trying to remember if they had had any wine after making love when they got back from Jeff and Alexandra's pool. There had been no additional calls, and he had encouraged her to turn in early after the first weekend of call. The wisps of her dream came back as she was getting things ready, and she smiled to herself, pleased she could at least tell Tag she had been having a naughty dream about him that morning.

The hiss of water flowing through the open faucets began after several seconds of hollow pops, announcing the air exiting the pipes. When she heard no more such interruptions of the flow she went down into the basement, flushing toilets and pausing to check that the water heaters were on before shutting off the facets and moving to the ground floor.

It still was not ten minutes before nine when everything was off once again. Karen considered trying to go back to sleep, but she was supposed to be at the hospital at 11. She made the bed, went into the kitchen to start the Keurig, filling its reservoir. She started a load of laundry, jumping and then laughing at herself when a bit of air was pushed out of the washer hoses as the machine began to fill. The heaters claimed to be 'rapid recovery' so she went back into the bedroom, stripped naked, and after putting a towel on the hook outside the shower door, reached in and started the shower.

There was good light through the skylight, so she left the bathroom light off, and when steam began to curl in the shower stall, she stepped in. She hesitated in shampooing her hair, remembering the episode in the B&B shower, but nothing happened, so she shampooed again before working conditioner in to her long reddish blonde hair. She left the conditioner in and set about shaving, then washing off. The hot water felt wonderful.

She was reluctantly considering rinsing her hair and drying off when she blinked, realizing the room was getting dark. She looked at the skylight, wondering if it was going to rain. Her skin prickled with cold despite the hot spray, and she turned back to the showerhead, puzzlement blooming to fear as she realized there was... something there.

Steam coiled and roiled before her, between her and the shower spray. She reached out, shocked at her temerity, but there was nothing to touch, the smoky mist a swirling trail in the wake of her arm.

A low rumble sounded loud in the shower stall... a chuckle? The mist seemed to clear. Karen could see the shower water bouncing off of the nothingness before her, the splashes creating a blinking outline of a figure much taller than Tague.

The stall seemed almost devoid of light except for the reflections in the water. Karen could no longer see the subway tile front wall of the shower; no sunlight seemed to reach through the sky light.

She saw her breath, though, and realized it was cold... impossibly cold. Then there was a flash of red... two spots, high above the top of her head, tilted down toward her. And blinking.

"Mine," she heard Tag's voice, but with a heavy Slavic accent. As frightened as she was, her body responded to that, nipples rising, her vaginal juices flowing so suddenly she thought she was wetting herself. The low chuckle repeated, and she watched in frozen horror as spectral hand reached out, applying pressure to her clit while a thumb began to circle her left nipple.

With a cry Karen threw herself back against, then through the shower door, falling onto the tile floor. She blinked, aware that she could see the glass door, but only from outside the shower stall, inside it had just been her and... it. The low chuckle continuing, she watched the red eyes move to the glass door, which had closed behind her. She began to scramble toward the door into the bedroom, but the specter made no further advance. A bright yellow line appeared beneath the glowing red lights.

"Soon." How did it have Tague's voice? She could not tear her eyes away from the crimson gaze. It winked once, and then dissipated. She was left panting, cold, wet, embarrassingly aroused, naked on the bathroom floor.

The shower was still running, she realized in horror. After a moment she rose, turning the shower light on. She opened the door, prepared to run from the house, not caring she was still naked.

After another moment she lurched into the shower, careful not to slip, viciously turned the sprays off, and leapt back out of the shower, closing the door.

The utter lack of any response was enough she was chiding herself for overreacting to a daydream on the ride to work. It had to be a day dream-- she was not crazy.

She delayed leaving work until she was sure Tag would be home, even calling to be certain. She could not bring herself to ask for a ride, though, even though it was approaching sunset. She rode home without incident, telling herself no matter how much she might sweat she was not taking another shower. And then her conscience demanded she shower to prove she was not afraid of her imagination.

She did not mention what had happened, and did shower, but kept the doors open and the lights on, and frequently poked her head out the door to call a question to her husband. He answered but was clearly puzzled why such questions could not wait.

He was busy, with books and binders scattered about his recliner and the Monday Night game on the big television over the fireplace. when she came out. She saw a red binder labeled 'NC' and when she asked, he shrugged and answered only that it was 'potential new clients.' She knew he wanted to make partner as quickly as possible, and had often told her new business was the fastest way to the top of the totem pole.

He stopped and fixed dinner even though it was not his night to do so, leaving Karen wondering if she looked like she needed help. She never considered telling her husband what was happening, though... what would he be able to do? He did pointedly ask if she was all right as they ate, and she insisted everything was fine.

And it was. Though to be sure, Karen only showered when Tague was home. But there were no more waking dreams, erotic dreams, or weird invitations or visits. They settled into the new routine, alternating who fixed dinner, and eating out on Friday, or Thursday if she was on call for the weekend. They did no real socializing, but not out of avoiding it or being excluded, they were simply busy with work and finishing the furnishing and decoration of their home.

The hospital CEO stopped by the ED one Tuesday, telling Karen her 'new Tesla' had been ordered, but a delivery date had not been set. Karen had taken to running, thinking maybe more physical activity would keep the imaginary monsters at bay. It was a good time to run, since the temperatures had dropped slightly with the arrival of fall. She had also taken to showering with the water a little less hot... that meant less steam. And one Wednesday morning she had braved a shower alone in the house before work, shocked that part of her was disappointed she did not have a visitor again, telling herself if 'he' had reappeared she would have been 'ready,' whatever that meant.

She chose to run home from work, since Tague had called that he was home early and had 'a surprise.' It was an unseasonably warm day, and she realized after Tag recoiled form her hug that she needed another shower.

His surprise was steak and pre-made twice baked potatoes. He told her he would open the wine and get the meat on the grill while she 'cleaned herself up.' She ran a leg up his suggestively, murmuring he could always come help scrub her back,' and giggled when he swatted her ass as she turned to head to their bedroom.

The prospect of showering with her husband had Karen mildly aroused. She got the water running just so, including 'his' showerhead, then stepped in, studiously keeping her back to the door from the bedroom, hoping for a pleasant surprise. But long after she was done showering Tague had still not taken advantage of the offer.

"Maybe he thinks I was kidding," she grumbled, shutting the water off and grabbing her towel, beginning to dry off inside the oversized shower stall. "Maybe he is the shower monster and they both leave me hanging." She giggled at that errant and ridiculous thought. Deciding Tag needed a more direct invitation, she let the towel drop, stepping naked into their bedroom. There were no curtains on the big west facing windows, but like Tag had mentioned, there was no one to be looking in at them.

She reached up, expertly twirling her long hair into a makeshift bun, and as she did so, she turned to watch the setting sun.

A stinging blow to her ass made Karen giggle, even as she was pushed strongly, toppling forward and barely catching herself.

"Hey!" she began to protest, aware that she was going to have rug burns on her knees. But Tag had her waist and lanced into her with an easy stroke that carried him balls deep. Her breath caught, then escaped in a moan as her body responded powerfully. She stopped trying to turn around to complain, dropping her head as her husband set an easy delicious pace thrusting in and out of her. She pushed back, bit her lip, moaning each time his thighs hit her ass.

"Yes!" she husked, "God you feel good... Fuck me, fuck me baby!" He kept at it, leaning forward which seated more of his shuttling cock in her sex. She marveled at how big he felt, her thoughts distracted as he expertly began playfully pinching and rolling her right nipple with his hand.

It was not two minutes before she announced what he had to know... that she was cumming.

"God, Tag," she panted when he did not pause or slow but instead caught hold of her hips, hammering into her harder and faster. "So good... Don't stop... fuck me, baby!" He chuckled, and she shivered in pleasure, already getting close to another orgasm. "You feel so big, baby!"

He was rutting into her so hard she was moving across the wood floor closer, approaching the window. She giggled imagining what anyone below would see as her hands hit the cool metal sash at the window bottom just as her second orgasm broke. She panted and whined, moaning happily when Tag reached up with his other hand and toyed with both of her breasts.

"I like the new trick, baby," she teased, wiggling her ass as he kept driving into her. She looked out over the ocean, imagining his thrusting was the endless waves rolling in.

"So big..." she murmured, "God, so good... fuck me... fuck me..." She brought her forehead to the cool glass and looked down to see Tag standing over the Traeger grill that had come with the house, turning their steaks. She giggled, then froze, whimpering.

"No!" she shook her head, her attempt to rear back, out of her husband's field of view serving to fully impale her on the man fucking into her from behind, her ass smacking his thighs without moving him at all. She moaned involuntarily and heard Tag's chuckle again.

Gooseflesh covered her body and she whimpered again. This was not possible. His hands closed on her breasts again, pinching and rolling her nipples, that impossible cock driving all the way in, pulling all the way out, each withdrawal slower, giving her time to feel how much she needed him in her again. She was still shaking her head, denying it as her next orgasm broke, body trembling uncontrollably.

It took all of her willpower to keep from screaming in pleasure. And when she quieted, he was still steadily fucking into her. She could not believe she was still cumming knowing it wasn't Tague.

"Mine," she heard Tag's Slavic accented voice.

"No!" she moaned, "You're not my husband!" That damned chuckle.

"But I can be." She whimpered. Did he mean to kill Tag? Kidnap her? She was afraid to look back. She shook her head, denying the words. "Yes... where should I mark you to prove I am him, and so you are mine?" Unable to understand what he could mean, Karen started to look back, crying out sharply as the teasing expert fingers working her nipples pinched them sharply. "You like it like a bitch in heat," the voice chuckled, "I will mark your ass.'

And then impossibly the pace increased, and Karen found she could not breathe to scream as she began to cum again and again, each wave more powerful, more demanding. She wondered if she might pass out. There was a delicious awful pulse of heat and a guttural moan behind her signaling he was finishing... inside of her.

He easily pulled her back away from the window after a moment, and it seemed forever he was pulling his spent cock out of her plundered sex. Karen slipped bonelessly to the floor of the bedroom, panting, struggling to think straight. And when she managed to focus enough to look back, she was alone in the room.

Groaning, she cupped her drooling sex and staggered back into the bathroom. Checked her breasts for any tell-tale marks. The thick fluid oozing from her sex was embarrassing there was so much, and she reluctantly jumped into the shower, thankful for the handheld shower head. She blushed aware that her labia hung slack, and wondered if Tague would notice a difference. She hurriedly dried off, trying not to wonder if that was why Terri had looked so absolutely totally fulfilled at the pool party.

"That wasn't Jeff," she said aloud, "I'm having erotic hallucinations." She laughed at that, wondering if there was such a disease.

Tag repeatedly asked if she was all right during dinner because she barely said a word. He laughed that she was obviously hungry, though, because she ravenously devoured the filet he had prepared, shrugging when he apologized that it was more medium rare than the medium plus she favored. He was honestly surprised she even ate it, but downplayed it. She also enjoyed a large second glass of wine, which was atypical. When he got up to retrieve dessert, promising she would love it, Karen had already decided what she needed to do.

He laughed, finding her lounging naked on their kitchen table, beckoning him closer with a finger.