“The Holly King”
by Mychael Black
Midwinter is my favorite time of year, when the green world has gone to sleep and the earth has turned fallow under a blanket of brilliant snow. I walk through the woods beyond the warmth of my cabin every evening, the fragile crystals alighting gently on my skin and cloak. I prefer the cold chill on my bare flesh–to feel closer to my beloved god, my cherished Cernunnos.
He is the White Stag, the God of the Hunt, the Consort of the Lady. He is the Holly King in the dark of the year; the Green Man in the light. He is my god, my passion. When I feel the wind upon my body, it is his gentle breath that I truly feel. When the snow melts upon my skin, I imagine that it is his sweet kiss that is melting upon me. When I pleasure myself, it is not my hand that I feel on my shaft, but his. I feel him all about me…within me. And so it was that I walked beyond the warmth of my home once more on such a chilled winter’s eve.
A new dusting of snow covered my well-worn path that wound through the thick woods. I picked my way slowly, drinking in the icy fingers that penetrated my cloak to slide along my skin. The tender flakes melted on my flesh, leaving sweet, chilled trails down my torso, my arms, my legs. My black hair was damp with the melted snow and it fell over my back and shoulders, dropping across my face from time to time, only to be pushed back once more by my slender hands.
It was not as cold as one might think–and the snow was a pristine white, as it fell from the clouds above, as it spread over the land below. No wind blew that night, leaving the forest silent. But it was not as silent as I had thought.
As I walked along my path, I sensed a presence–behind me, before me, above me, below me. It was everywhere; he was everywhere.
I stopped…and watched…as a creature of the forest stepped onto the path before me. He was a stag, as brilliant as the newly fallen snow. His eyes were deep and dark, like the purest obsidian Nature could ever produce. His antlers were expansive; His form strong. The power radiated from him as we stood, staring at one another in the growing dark of night.
He approached me silently, commanding that I remain still and silent as well. When he came to stand before me, his muzzle brushed my chest, his eyes beckoned to me. I raised my hand and gingerly touched him–his antlers, his head, his muzzle. He seemed to smile at me, pleased with what I was doing. I felt him in my mind, whispering to me.
“Feel me, Bran. Take me inside you–I am with you always. In body, mind, heart, and soul…I am with you.”
I closed my eyes as his words flowed through my mind, their lilting cadence a sweet song meant for my soul. When I felt a hand on my cheek, I opened my eyes.
There he stood–my god, in all his beauty–my Lord Cernunnos. His raven hair blew errantly in an unfelt breeze, his dark eyes sparkled. He took me in his hands, cupping my face gently, and leaned forward. His lips were soft as they pressed to mine, and with the slightest touch of his tongue, my mouth opened for him, taking him in. His strong arms moved from my face, around my shoulders to pull me into a strong, sweet embrace.
My god…my dear Lord Cernunnos–how I’ve longed for this moment.
He was unclothed, as was I, and our shafts pressed together, moving along one another as we moved–a slow slide of his soft skin along my own calloused flesh. He pressed me to my knees and followed, covering my body with his as we fell gently upon the warm wool of my cloak. He unclasped the fabric from my neck, then lowered his head to brushed his lips across my throat. His kisses were sweetly hot, melting the snow around us. The earth beneath us grew warm with our heat, releasing a thin vapor into the air to dance with the love that we were making.
With nothing more than a gentle touch, Cernunnos parted my thighs. I had never been penetrated before, but he was gentle…loving…slow. He entered me as his lips covered mine once more. I cried out into the warmth of his mouth as his hardness filled me…stretched me…consumed me. He moved slowly, withdrawing his length, reentering me with a sweet gentleness. I began to move with him, my hips rose to meet him, my mouth drawing him in as deeply as my body took him in.
Cernunnos sighed into my mouth, filling me with the sweetness of his breath. I drank him in, then exhaled as he released, his essence filling me with a flooding warmth. Euphoria…bliss…love–I was his…and he was a part of me. When my body tightened around his shaft, he kissed me deeply, taking my pleasure and turning it into a bond of divine love. I released between our bodies, my own pleasure rushing out in wave after blissfully sweet wave.
My god…my dear Lord Cernunnos
He withdrew from me, leaving my body empty…yet my soul filled. He was my lover, my soul. His dark eyes held the love of the ages within their depths. I felt the tears before they fell. He drew his fingers along my cheek, catching the tears in his palms. His body was hard to mine. He cupped my face once more and kissed me, his sweet breath warming me, his lips moving across mine in a slow, divine dance. When he left my lips, I felt his body rise.
“Sweet Bran, you have loved me. I am within you always.”
When I opened my eyes to look upon my divine lover, I found the dark eyes of the white stag once more. He smiled and I watched silently as he walked away from me, disappearing once more into the dark of the forest beyond.
Every night, through every winter, he is there–waiting for me. When we make love, I feel him within my body…within my soul.
My dear Lord Cernunnos…my sweet Holly King.
(c) 2005 Mychael Black