Closing the Circle

Over the course of the weeks, Barra became accustomed to offering his gift to the Goddess when he felt desire begin to run through him. Sometimes he would be alone in the woods, part of a private ritual between him and the earth, but other occasions would be under Niamh's supervision during some quiet time they shared together.

He noticed Niamh always cast a circle and set wards when they were to do this and he found himself mirroring her movements and words when he was by himself. He wasn't always sure if he achieved the same level of security as when Niamh did it, but either way, it made him feel safe within the sacred space.

Niamh watched his progress with satisfaction. She noticed how much calmer he was becoming as his body and mind became more aware of each other. She knew he watched her when she drew her powers around her and noted his growing confidence in trying things out for himself. She did not need to watch his circle casting, for she felt the corresponding shift in the aether when they were put into place. She also noted the subtlety of his actions, only using as much energy as was needful and never attempting to use too much when a little sufficed.

One evening in late spring, when the last meal of the day was over, they sat for some time, sipping their tea and talking, almost as if each were trying to delay what must inevitably occur. Barra sensed Niamh was uneasy about something, but could not put his finger on what exactly it was. At first, he was embarrassed to offer his gift to the Goddess in Niamh's presence, but as he grew more used to it, he almost managed to achieve a sense of detachment between his mind and body. Niamh rarely spoke to him, except to check on his level of comfort and health, or maybe to suggest another technique, but she never became involved with his actions, her face remaining impassive throughout.

He could not believe her when she told him she had no desire of her own. He had known enough women to notice the difference between their lack of interest and when desire ran strong within them. It could not always have been so with her. There must have been a time when she loved for love's sake alone and not at the will of the Lord and Lady. One day he would ask her, but not now. Some nights he tried deliberately to entice her, to goad her into a physical response to his actions, but although her eyes might flicker, her body remained hidden underneath her clothes and she did not stir from her stool until she came to wash him and plant a single kiss on his cheek or forehead.

When everything was ready, Barra settled himself on the thick furs by the fire and waited for Niamh to cast their circle and set the wards. Sometimes he followed her line of blue light with a golden one of his own. She did not reprimand him or object to what he did, so tonight he stood up and drew the double circle with her, watching how the lights hung together in the air like a million tiny stars. When she invoked the Guardians of the four quarters, he answered her and it seemed to him their circle was the stronger for his contribution. He did not know why, but he felt they would need that extra protection.

Niamh was wearing a different robe tonight, woven in softest wool and held up by a single drawstring around her neck. She wore her usual belt, but there was no sign of the beige linen shift she wore underneath. Barra fantasised what would happen if the drawstring was loosed and the material fell to hang around her waist, but he knew it would not happen and he should concentrate on other things.

Niamh handed him the jar of salve and he wasted no time making himself comfortable and working on his own arousal. This was never difficult. All he had to do was remember the pattern of the Everlasting Tree and paint it on Niamh's body in his mind. His body did the rest. Once he reached the root of the tree and her Gateway, that was always the point of no return. He was almost there when Niamh suddenly reached out and held the tip of his manhood firmly with two fingers.

"Wait!"

Barra was surprised, not shocked, but obviously interrupted from the final outcome. "What is it - what do you mean?" he asked.

"You need to learn control and more obedience," was all she would say. "It is not all about pleasure."

Barra's confusion was evident. What did she mean? Why did she touch him? What was he supposed to do? Had he offended her in some way? Did she know the image he used within his mind?

"Take your hands away."

Barra dropped his hands uncertainly to his side, leaving his member erect and quivering.

"Now tell me what you feel."

Barra stuggled for a moment to find the words to convey the strange sensation she had caused in him. "I feel..... the moment of .. the giving .. is passed, but I feel pleasure still..." Naimh's hand stroked him lazily for a few strokes. He savoured her touch on him, the pulses of sensation subtle and familiar but not overwhelming.

"If the point is not pleasure, then what is the point - apart from the giving - the offering?"

"More learning, more awareness."

"What must I learn now?"

"Control and obedience. Touch your sack." Barra reached down to cup his scrotum in his palm. "How long before it will discharge?"

"It depends on .. how I - or you - " he looked at her," - how fast or .. it depends upon how I am touched."

"And if I do not give permission?"

"If you do not give .. permission?" Barra felt his wits leave him. What was she talking about?

"If I do not give permission for your gift to be offered at the point of offering?"

Barra shook his head in bewilderment, "I do not know ... how could I stop myself from .. spilling my seed. What happens, is ... a thing of the body."

"We shall see." Niamh released him and leant back on her stool. She took a sip of cooled tea as if her throat were dry. She offered him the dish, but he declined. "You may continue."

Barra looked vaguely worried and thoughtful, but he resumed,. placing his hand back at the root of his shaft, bringing both hands to the swollen head, smoothing back the foreskin as the stroke made its descent to the base, one hand following the other in slow sure movements

He was so engrossed in his own action, he almost missed seeing Niamh untie the top of her gown, letting the material droop to expose her right breast. She cupped her breast in her right hand and pushed her thumb firmly down from the top of the breast towards the nipple. He had seen women do this when they fed their bairns, but never during acts of love or lust between men and women. Suddenly he remembered the sweet taste of milk from his woman's breast when he'd lain with her after their son was born. For once, the memory of her did not bring its usual anguish, he only remembered the sweetness and the love of their union.

Barra's eyes never left Niamh as he looked with longing at her breast. Several times, she pushed downwards with thumb and he saw her nipple was indeed engorging; tiny, pale blue drops appeared on the tip. As he watched, he placed one palm over the head of his manhood, while the other twisted gently as it stroked. His motions did not speed up; he sensed she wanted him to be controlled and deliberate. He gently swirled his palm round on the tip of the glans and felt a wave of sheer excitement pass over him.

Niamh was watching his state of arousal carefully. "What is it you want, Barra?"

"Lady..." his voice was laboured as he continued to slowly stroke, and work his length. "I would..."

"What would you?"

"I would..." he tore his eyes from her breast and looked at the floor. "Might I touch you?"

"Where?

"May I touch your breast, my Lady?" He looked up at her and stretched out one hand tentatively, noticing that the drops on the end of the nipple were growing larger.

"No! Open your mouth." His hand dropped to the pelt as if she had stung him. He fixed his gaze on her face and opened his mouth, not completely, just agape slightly."

"Stick out your tongue."

Barra pushed his tongue to protrude slightly from his lips, his gaze never wavering from her as he continued to work his hand gently along his shaft. Niamh left her stool and came to kneel beside him, her hand still squeezing the end of her breast. She rubbed the liquid from her nipple onto his tongue. He felt it trickle onto his tastebuds and as he drew his tongue back into his mouth, he tasted that familiar sweetness. How a woman who was not with child or nursing could produce milk, or something tasting like milk, he did not know. This must be a gift from the Goddess, Herself, and silently, in his heart, he thanked Her.

"Now tell me what you feel."

Barra reflected. "I am still aroused... but .. I want more... I want more... "

Niamh smiled at him. "You sound like a child. A child who wishes...to?"

"I want to suckle. I want to suckle at your breast."

"What will that teach you?"

"All goodness flows from the Mother." He heard Niamh's familiar chuckle.

"And?" She loosened the drawstring further so that her gown fell to her waist.

Barra felt his fantasy coming true. "And ... I obey you as I would a mother..."

With her hand still cupping her breast, Niamh leant forward and offered it to him. Barra opened his lips to receive her nipple, reaching for it with his tongue, not probing, but like a child, softly and greedily sucking her into his mouth. He drew her breast in and suckled on her nipple, while he returned his attention to his manhood. His strokes were becoming deeper now. He lifted his head for a moment and the breast fell away from his lips.

Niamh let slip a soft sigh as she concentrated on keeping her breathing even. She knew she took a great risk, allowing him access to her body, especially when her body seemed to be having a mind of its own, instead of its usual detached watchfulness.

"Now," she asked, "how do you feel?"

"I am ready, Lady, my moment comes."

Once more her hand reached across his and she squeezed below the end of his shaft forcefully, almost painfully. Barra winced - with surprise rather than pain.

"You still think so?" Niamh's finger brushed across the tip of his nipple, forcing him to close his eyes for a moment at her touch on his skin.

He frowned, "The moment passed."

Niamh nodded. "What are you learning, Barra?"

"That ... that .. I may control my body and ... not all things lead to a set conclusion."

He was pleasantly surprised when she offered him the other breast. He took it, less childlike this time, teasing the nipple gently. He heard how her breathing changed as she closed her eyes momentarily at his touch, but all too soon she took back control and was almost her normal, impassive self. Barra could sense a subtle change in her, as his lips encircled the nipple and his tongue delicately flickered across the end. He heard her take in a deep breath.

His hand movements were almost lazy now. There was an arrogance about the way he moved, trying to return himself to the moment of climax.

"Lie back, Barra, put your arms above your head."

He wondered, idly, why he did not sigh or feel frustrated she should deny him his release a third time. It was as if the end point had no meaning, no purpose. He trusted she would do with him what was needful. His body felt pleasured, his desire coiled inside to be released upon her command, "As my Lady wills it, " he murmured as he lay down in the required position.

Niamh sat down beside him, releasing her hair so it fell all around her like a veil. She drew it together in one hand and brushed it against his skin, starting at his neck, then drawing the thick strands all the way down his body. Barra shivered at the sensation. He flexed and arched his body as the featherlike touch moved over him, almost writhing in pleasure. His instinct was to take her, to hold her, but he knew he would break the spell, taking her from his body forever.

Naimh moved to his forehead, planting a single kiss, first on his brow, then on his throat; in the centre of his chest; on his solar plexus; just below his belly button and then on his sack. A long low groan, almost a growl escaped from Barra's throat as he twisted in ecstasy. Then he felt her drape her hair across his manhood. The hair fell softly, teasingly, a feather-light but deeply powerful sensation. His head swam.

Without warning, he felt her mouth engulf him, her tongue licking him, while her hand curved around the base of his shaft. He felt warmth and wetness, delicious movement. His urge to caress her was only restrained by gripping the fur below his head. He felt her lips caress him, moving slowly up and down; her mouth applying minimal suction around the tip while her tongue probed the slit at the end.

The sheer unexpected invasiveness - the unfamiliar intrusion - thrilled him. He felt the blood coursing and roaring through his head and body. Once more she lowered her mouth over him again, her teeth gently chewing him, while her hand stroked his sack and inner thighs.

His writhing was slow and uncontrollable, each motion she made bringing him closer to climax, but he tried to restrain himself - to hold back. Her sucking became more forceful, allowing him no respite, her tongue swirling around him, her fingers teasing behind his sack, applying slight, but noticeable pressure.

His need became more urgent as she sucked more forcefully, her other hand busy around the base of his shaft brushing the newly grown hairs. He found he could barely speak. His eyes met hers, begging her to allow him to end this exquisite torment. His groaning was constant, coming in waves to match her lips' actions, and as he felt her teeth on him, he shivered. In his mind he heard her voice, saying he had no control, it was hers to give or reject and that she would make him discharge his offering.

Aloud he said, between moans, gasping "Yes, Lady."

His body was jolting and shuddering now as she sucked him deep into her mouth. The feeling of being swallowed whole was unlike anything he had known before and he began to shake. "Lady, I beg of you..."

"You may offer your gift." Her voice was clear in his mind as he felt her hands lightly stroking around his sack and inside his thighs - barely brushing the skin. There was no time to think - just a sudden lightning flash moment and an explosion of wave after pounding wave of pleasure, as his release came upon him. He felt the seed pumping along the shaft and releasing into her mouth in eager, violent pulses. She held him firm in her mouth, gathering the seed and swallowing until his spasms subsided, his flow coming in slower, gentler shudders.

When Niamh felt Barra's body begin to twitch and shake, she released his shaft and lay close to him, drawing him to her, stroking his belly and back, soothing him until he grew still, little by little.

Without thinking, Barra brought his hands down from above his head, enfolding her in his arms and stroking her, as if to return the comfort she was offering him. He still could not quite manage to speak, even though his breathing was almost back to normal.

Niamh gently kissed his cheek. "What have you learned, Barra?" Was this his thoughts playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he heard her say, "Beloved." Was that really what she thought of him? He thought hard for several moments before he answered. When he did, the words rose in his mind, not on his lips, coloured with his love and gratitude for what she had done.

"Giving is not about the gift, about the outcome. The giving, the gift itself, is in the giving, in the preparation, the making of the gift and its outcome. All of these are part of the giving. It is not for me to choose when or how the gift should be made, but to listen to the Goddess and please her as she would be pleased."

Niamh nodded, her eyes glistening in the firelight.

He held her tightly, "Thank you, my Lady. It was a lesson I will not forget." Barra sensed Niamh's growing vulnerability as she fought to maintain a semblance of control over her emotions. He noticed how she swept a hand across her eyes, almost casually, brushing away the gathering tears.

"Stay, Lady," he urged, "lie here with me and rest. It is warm." He looked down at her, not pleadingly, or anxiously, just with deep compassion and affection in his eyes. Niamh hesitated. "Stay, please, for warmth and companionship, nothing else."

He felt a single tear drop on his chest. It was enough for him to push the tendrils of hair away from her face and gently stroke her cheek.

"Should your Lady not be always strong and sure?" Niamh murmured.

"No-one can always be anything," Barra brushed the wetness away from her eyes. "Come, lend me your strength and I will lend you some of mine."

Naimh turned her head into his shoulder as he cradled her. "I don't know what it is, Barra, this weakness. Sometimes the things you say touch me deeply."

"There is no secret in that- we are bonded, you and I. Sometimes I know what is in you, even though I do not know where it comes from. It echoes from you and I speak it. Weakness it may be, but only if it were turned against you, which it will never be. Never."

As his voice died away, he felt the tension in her body relax and for the first time since his arrival in her life, she allowed herself to cry and be held by another. His lips touched her hair in silent benediction. Lying quite still, his quiet breathing soon calmed and soothed her until they both drifted off into a dreamless sleep.