That Old, Familiar Feeling Ch. 02

Somehow she found the experience...nice. Flattering, in a sense. No one had ever devoted such attention to her. Not one person had desired to know her in the unique, all-consuming way that Garnet did. It has been years since she'd been the centre of someone's world. Under Garnet's rigorous eye, she felt special in a way she'd never known before.

Face and arms documented, the chest measurements began. At his request she put her hands on her head, giving him unrestricted access to her breasts. He took her chest measurements above and below her breasts, then across her nipples. As the tape measure touched them, she realized they were erect and standing out straight and proud. She saw him look, holding her bare breasts in his gaze for just a little longer than necessary. Would he touch them? She closed her eyes and tried to feel his lips there. His tongue. Her whole body flushed in response to the imagined touch.

"Everything okay?"

She opened her eyes to see him watching her, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Just...feeling a little shy," she said, suddenly embarrassed by her dirty, delightful thoughts.

"We're almost done. Is it okay if I finish?"

She nodded. He finished the chest measurements, then waist and hips. Then he knelt in front of her and did her feet - each toe got its length meticulously recorded in his notebook, then the length of each foot, then heel to the back of the knee.

All the while, his face was inches from her throbbing labia. Could he smell her arousal? Would he know what it implied? The idea thrilled her.

"Um...could you move your feet apart more?" he asked.

She complied without thinking, revealing herself more completely. Almost an invitation.

"Pardon my hands," he mumbled as he measured her from knee-to-groin, up the inside of her thigh. His hand grazed her sex and she jerked as though zapped by a static shock. Her breath came out in a quiet shudder. At least, she hoped it had been quiet. More than anything, she wanted to feel him touch her there again. And not only with the back of his hand...

"Aaaaaand we're done," he announced. "You can dress."

"Oh...that didn't take too long."

He sat on the floor at her feet and grinned up at her. "Thanks again for this. I know it was probably awful. But I got a lot of good numbers."

"It was awkward at first, but you made it comfortable. By the end I wasn't bothered that much."

"Good! Hopefully it'll be easier next time."

"Next time?"

"Yeah," he picked himself up off the floor and added his notebook to the pile on her coffee table. "The measurements need to be repeated periodically. You know, to identify changes over time."

"How frequently?" She couldn't tell if she was excited or horrified by the news.

"Once a week for the tape measure, height and weight. The other stuff - heart rate, breathing and temperature - are supposed to be done daily."

"Daily?"

He laughed and held up his hands to ward off her dismay. "Don't worry. We'll come to some other arrangement. I know you don't want me bothering you every evening. You're probably sick of me as it is. If you're alright with it, maybe I can swing by once or twice per week?"

"Wait," she said. Would he really be willing to come over every evening? "Didn't you just say that there would be no point to this if we couldn't do a good job of it?"

"I guess I did."

"Well then, I think we should do it by the book, don't you?"

He looked surprised. "I'd be using an awful lot of your time. You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"And you're okay with the...naked stuff?"

"I survived, didn't I?" The comment made her realize she was STILL naked, and she quickly recovered her robe from the couch.

"Well then, sure. I'll be here. I didn't think you'd go for it."

"I'm your Familiar, right? It's my job to support your efforts."

The look he gave her was equal parts warmth and gratitude. "That's really awesome. I can't stop thanking you."

"Nonsense. You're doing important work, and I benefit too. This is going to help me with my anxiety, right?"

"I sure hope so."

"Then it's settled. Why not come here directly from work? I can have dinner waiting and you can grab a shower if you want one. Saves you the hassle of making two trips."

"That's really a lot of work for you. I don't want to be any trouble."

"No trouble. I'd...be glad for the company. Your company, that is."

He gave a smile and nod. "It's a deal. And thanks again."

Garnet started gathering his books and returning them to his suitcase. She glanced at the wall clock. Eight forty-five. Time had flown by. But the night was still young...right?

"Is there someplace you need to be right now? I was thinking we might talk a while," she said, feeling oddly shy about the suggestion. Even with everything that had happened that evening, a quiet chat seemed almost too intimate.

"No plans. I was going to go home and enter these measurements into a spreadsheet but that can wait." He sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. "Something on your mind?"

She considered taking a few minutes to get back into her clothes but dismissed the idea as silly. What did she have left to hide?

"A few things," She sat next to him and took a moment to adjust her robe. "Questions, I guess."

"Ask away."

"I hope this doesn't sound weird, but what kind of relationship do Masters and Familiars have? Are they friends, or is there a different dynamic there?"

He chuckled. "Kind of late to be asking that, isn't it? We already had the ritual."

She grinned sheepishly. "True, but back then I figured it wouldn't work, so I didn't give it any serious thought."

"Hmm. Okay, remember that this all started back in the early eighteen-hundreds. Back then they had some pretty old-fashioned views about women. Plus there's a religious aspect to the Knighthood as well, and the church's attitude towards other-worldly spirits was also pretty negative. So you can imagine that women who were also other-worldly spirits were regarded...not too highly."

"I get the picture."

"Yeah. The Pact was originally designed to keep the Daemon under control, to bind her to a knight. You know...harness her power. But the journals indicate that it didn't always work out that way in reality. The first two knights who were bonded wrote about their Familiars almost like they were children - the Daemons had to follow rules, were chastised when they made mistakes, rewarded with sweets when they did good. That sort of thing."

"Kind of patronizing," she said dryly.

"For sure. But every Pact seemed to work itself out differently. One knight regarded his familiar like a servant, making her work long, harsh hours. In another case the knight practically worshiped the Familiar, fawning over her and showering her with luxury. In some cases there was friendship, in others just a formal working relationship. My grandfather was deeply in love with his first Familiar - Anna was her name. They lived like husband and wife, to hear him tell it. His second Familiar - Cordella - was more like a casual friend."

"He had two?"

"Not at the same time. Anna died before he met Cordella. But he's the only knight ever to have two Daemon Familiars."

Monica detected a distinct note of pride in Garnet's last statement.

"So there were all sorts of relationships then."

"Yup. Why do you ask?"

"Just trying to understand how it's supposed to be between you and me. You know, what kinds of expectations you have. To make sure I'm holding up my end."

"No worries there. You've been amazing."

Monica smiled, the compliment pleased her. "Thank you. I hope you'll speak up if there's something I could be doing better. You're the expert on all this Daemon stuff, after all."

"It's funny - I was just thinking the opposite. You're the one with all the life experience. I only know about one thing. I'm hoping I learn a lot from you."

"Oh, come on. You sound pretty knowledgeable."

He grinned at that. "Nope. Home-schooled by grandfather until I was eighteen. Spent almost all my time training and studying. He died more than a year ago and I was out in the real world for the first time. I had to learn how to drive, learn how to make friends, hold down a real job. At the same time, I had to keep up my work with the Knighthood. I was overwhelmed. I didn't know who to trust, and I was so awkward. Every day was scary and stressful. You can't imagine."

"I don't have to imagine. You pretty much described my life. Scared, overwhelmed, anxious and stressed. It's always been that way, although Bill made it bearable...and the pills..." she trailed off, not wanting to pursue those memories any further.

"You seem fine now."

"Yes, here, with you. But out there?" She nodded at the front door. "That's a different story. I fall apart."

"That's not unusual," Garnet said, setting his hand on top of hers. The gesture was supportive and warm. "Daemons are homebodies. The journals are full of stories of Daemons getting upset and panicky when they have to leave their homes. One of them lived in a church and would wail miserably whenever she had to go outside its walls. One lived in a farmhouse and wouldn't even go into the apple orchard in the back yard."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't think there's anything wrong with you. You're behaving exactly like a Daemon."

Monica was again struck by how perfectly she conformed to the characteristics of Daemonkind. Small wonder that Garnet was so convinced - there were moments she was beginning to consider the possibility herself!

She squeezed his hand. "It's nice to hear someone thinks I'm normal."

"Not just normal. Amazing. Wondrous."

"Now you're laying it on a bit thick," she said with a wry smile.

He laughed his easy, infectious laugh and relaxed against the back of the couch. She didn't let go of his hand.

"So since you raised the topic, what are your expectations of your Master? After all, I have to hold up MY end too." he said.

"Hmm. Well, if you wanted to worship me and shower me with luxury, I wouldn't object."

"You know I deliver groceries for a living, right?"

"How disappointing."

"Come on. Seriously."

She paused to collect her thoughts. "I like how it's going so far. Just let me know what you need me to do...how I can help. Keep being like you were tonight, calm and patient and gentle. Spend time with me so I feel comfortable." She hoped she wasn't coming off as too needy.

"Will do. You can always stop me if I'm going too fast."

What if you're going too slowly? She banished the unspoken question from her mind. Where had it even come from?

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, holding hands. The heat he'd built up inside her during the measurements hadn't left her, and in the quiet she could feel her hunger more acutely.

"I have another question. This one's kind of embarrassing," she said.

He met her eyes with a solemn expression. "You can ask me anything, or tell me anything."

She nodded. "What does Daemon energy feel like? I mean...what do Daemons feel when their energy is growing?"

"Hmm," he said, and his brow furrowed in thought. He was silent for a little while. "That's a great question! The journals talk about a growing sense of restlessness or vitality. One of the journals describes a high-energy Daemon as having 'eyes alight with mischief'. To be honest, it's all kind of vague, and not described well. All the journals are written from the knight's perspective, so there's not much there on what the Daemon is feeling."

"That makes the record pretty one-sided."

"I guess that's true," he said, then clapped his hands. "But why not change that? Let's make sure that your thoughts and feelings make it into the journal that I'm writing."

"I'd like that," she said.

He put his hand back on hers. She liked having it there.

"I don't see what was so embarrassing about that question," he said.

She felt a light blush. "It's just...I've been experiencing different kinds of feelings and I was wondering if that was because of the Pact, or if it's you, or if it's my Daemon energy rising...or maybe it's just normal human feelings that I'm not accustomed to."

He leaned forward. "Like what? What kinds of feelings?"

His eyes on her were so focused, so intense that she found it hard to speak for a moment.

"Well...when Bill died I figured there would be certain things I'd never feel again. I mean, I was fifty and alone so I figured that some things were just kind of...over with...you understand?"

His puzzled but attentive expression told her that no, he did not. She tried again.

"But, with you I'm feeling these things again, and I'm really liking that. But at the same time it doesn't seem like I SHOULD be feeling these things, or liking that I feel them. So I just thought maybe it was because there was some other reason for it. And it sounds completely insane but maybe there's something about this Pact that..." she paused and let out a breath. "See what I mean?"

"Um...could you maybe try again? I'm not quite getting it."

The indirect approach wasn't working. She sighed and met his eyes - the only way out was through, apparently. Her blush deepened.

"When you're near me, I feel...arousal. That's not normal for me, so I figured maybe..."

Comprehension broke across his face. "Maybe arousal is related to your Daemonic energy?"

Monica was relieved that Garnet had finally caught up. It was silly to couch her true feelings in terms of Daemons and Pacts, but somehow it felt easier to do it that way than to sort through the complexity and tumult of her true emotions. Besides, the night of the Pact had changed her life, and after all she'd seen and heard so far, Monica wasn't ruling anything out anymore.

"Is that possible?" she asked.

"It's not impossible. As you said, the record is pretty one-sided. Maybe this is what all Daemons felt and it just never got recorded."

"Back in the day, it wasn't proper to discuss it."

"I guess not," he said. His attention never wavered from her and she found herself basking in it. "So, what should we do about this?"

"About...my arousal?"

He nodded, and she was thankful that he'd developed a slight blush as well.

"Well..." she trailed off as all sorts of possibilities flashed through her mind, none of them decent, some of them downright perverted. She made no effort to shoo them away. Such thoughts were becoming the norm for her lately, however much she might want to deny it. But she couldn't bring herself to vocalize them. Not just yet. "You're the Master here...aren't you supposed to decide things like that?"

"But...I mean, I don't know a lot about...that."

She gave him a shy smile. "I guess we'll have to trust your instincts. I said before, just tell me what you need me to do."

There was a silence as he looked at her and she looked back.

"Well, let's see. When did you first notice the arousal?"

"It was...during the ceremony." She hoped he didn't find it offensive that she was aroused by a solemn religious ritual.

"You were aroused during the rites?"

She nodded. "Very."

"What part?"

She hesitated, suddenly unsure of how much to reveal of herself. "It started when I took off my robe."

Unexpectedly, he reached out with his right hand and loosened the tie on her robe, then undid it completely. All the while his eyes were reading hers. He'd never been so bold with her before!

Her breath quickened and the desire she'd felt during his measurements came roaring back. He gently pushed the pink Terri-cloth off her shoulders while she sat still and allowed it to slide down her body and pool around her where she sat. Bare to the waist, she began to shiver, despite the heat that suffused her body.

"You're feeling it now?"

She nodded, unable to look away from him.

"Was that the only part of the ritual that aroused you?"

She shook her head. "When I was kneeling and you...took off your clothes. Seeing your body..."

He hesitated a moment, then stood and gathered her robe and laid it on the hardwood floor, folded double. His expectant glance was all it took to get her off the couch, and she lowered herself to her knees on the robe. Naked for him, again. It was beginning to feel so right. She felt the tingle from her engorged nipples.

He stepped back. "How do you feel now?"

"Good. Warm." her voice sounded husky. She could hear her heart hammering. Her whole body vibrated with energy.

He stepped back and pulled his shirt up and over his head, then tossed it onto the couch and undid his jeans. He held her eyes in his as he unceremoniously pushed his jeans and underwear down his legs and off, tossing them away. In full lighting his naked body was no less impressive than it had been in semi-darkness, well-shaped, strong, youthful, powerful. This time she made no pretense and stared hungrily at his cock, which stood eager and erect.

"It's stronger now?"

"Oh yes. You have a beautiful body." Her voice was almost a whisper, the words seemed to slip out unfiltered. She felt free of modesty and reservation.

"You can feel my energy?"

"So strongly. It's...everywhere," she breathed. Somehow it wasn't a lie - his presence filled the room, commanded her attention.

"Is this how you felt during the ritual?"

She nodded. It was hard to focus her thoughts - hard to focus on anything but him. "It's stronger now. It's so much more than before."

He took two steps and suddenly he was standing over her, his cock inches from her lips. She inhaled the musky scent and sighed. She was melting - her sex throbbed, her clitoris yearned to be stroked.

She leaned forward but felt his hand on her head, reining her in, keeping his erection just out of reach. She slowly looked up at him, at his glorious body, finding his dark, enveloping eyes, seeing the naked hunger in them.

"What are you feeling now?" he said, his voice lust-thickened.

It was hard to pull her thoughts together. A fire raged through her body, demanding attention. Her mind felt fuzzy and it was hard to scrape together the right 'Familiar' response.

"Can I...feed?"

"Describe how you're feeling," he said, barely audible, "I have to know everything."

She groaned at the delay. His scent was all around her. "I feel hungry. I feel hot and...wet. I feel aroused and...a strong desire for you. Can I feed...Master?"

She felt his hand lift away from her head as he nodded, eyes still holding her, wrapping her up in him.

She needed no encouragement and engulfed him in her mouth, but this time there was no hesitation, no tentative exploration with lips and tongue. She took him fast. Deep. Rough. There was no conscience holding her back, no sense of modesty or propriety, just a desperate urge to consume him, to satisfy a hunger that - in less than a day - had become as real and demanding as any she'd known.

She felt an impossibly wonderful sensation between her legs, spreading waves of joy through her core. Fingers on her clitoris. Her fingers, she realized. Knowing exactly how to touch her, what strokes felt best, when to go hard and when to go light. Her orgasm was close.

His hand was on her head again, separating his cock from her wet, sloppy mouth. "What..are you doing?" His voice was a ragged panting. He gestured to the fingers that hadn't stopped their assault on her clitoris.

She moaned, his cock so close. Her brain was barely functioning. "I need to release. Release...my energy..."

He released her head and she fell onto his cock again.

"Don't release it. Let it build." he gasped.

She didn't stop. Sucking. Stroking. Drooling. Feeding. She was close. He was too - she was sure of it. Nothing else mattered.

"Monica. Don't release. Keep your energy...inside you...that's what I want to measure." His warm hands were on her upper arms, gentle but insistent, pulling her glistening fingers away from her molten sex. For a brief moment she resisted, wanting a return of the incomparable pleasure. But his will won out and she abandoned her clitoris, stroking her palms over his calves instead. Her mouth continued to devour him.