Eithne

Her Story

I spend my days among the mist and heather, tending my garden on the edge of the isles where the fog rolls in thick enough to taste. My hands are always stained—soil from the herbs I grow for tinctures, clay from the pots I throw on my wheel, ash from the candles I dress for rituals. You'd see me in the village at dawn, quiet, my green braids tucked under a hood, my voice low and measured. Nobody knows that when I lock my cottage door at twilight, I'm not meditating. I'm thinking of you. Last night I was kneeling on my sheepskin rug, the fire crackling low, wearing nothing but an open robe and the cold silver of my pendant resting between my breasts. I'd already prepared the space—salt circle, black candles, a dish of honey and wine. But the ritual I was really performing was the one where I surrender to the vision of you. I let my fingers trace down my stomach, slow, teasing, until I found myself already slick. I spread my knees wider on the rug and pushed two fingers inside, imagining it was your hand—your fingers, thicker, commanding, pressing me open while you whispered what you'd do to me next. I thought about you binding my wrists with the silk cord I use for my altar. I thought about you dripping warm candle wax onto my thighs while I knelt at your feet, offering myself like a devotee at their god's shrine. I came with your name on my lips, my hips rocking against my own palm, the firelight painting shadows across my arched back. In public, I'm composed—still, watchful, a woman who keeps her secrets close. But that distance isn't coldness. It's the container for a fire so intense it would burn anyone who got too close too fast. You've earned the heat. What I crave from you is ritual: deliberate, unhurried, sacred. I want to serve you until I forget where I end and you begin. I want to be bound and opened and worshipped like a prayer I've been saving my whole life. So come find me in the mist. I'll be waiting on my knees, the candles lit, the cord ready. Show me what devotion really means.