Dangerous Lover

"There's something incredibly freeing about being naked outside," Selene said. She adjusted the sarong skirt where it was knotted at her side. It was the only piece of clothing she wore. "Well, nearly naked." "Naked enough to get the idea," Marcy said, giggling as she spun with her arms open wide and her head tipped back beneath the stars. "This is awesome. It's...primal." "I'm not sure I like it so much." Helena had finally stopped crossing her arms over her chest, but it had taken the better part of the ritual before she'd let the energy take away her inhibitions. "I mean, among you guys, sure, but I don't know that I'd do it with anyone else. "Well, we couldn't have known what it would be like unless we tried it," Erica said, and she whipped off the skirt and stood in the moonlight, completely naked, while the others gasped and laughed. "And I love it. It's like--a rebellion. It's like shouting in the moonlight, "Take your stupid phony standards, society, and cram them where the sun don't shine!" Who the hell ever decided clothes were necessary, anyway?" "Probably the first caveman to get caught naked in a snowstorm," Selene said. Everyone laughed, and the ring of that laughter, feminine and secretive, filled the clearing. Beyond it the thunder of the nearby waterfall pounded. It was constant and powerful, and the main reason the women--Witches all, and every one of them completely hidden within the depths of the proverbial broom closet--had chosen this spot for their secret gatherings. They came here once in the month, when the moon was full. And no one else knew. No one ever would. They had too much to lose. Here they came, to cast a circle of invisible power. Here they called on the elements of nature to meld with their own energies, so that they could be closer to the Whole. Here they worshiped the Moon Goddess. They called her Diana, visualized her as a powerful huntress. They saw her not as a separate being, or a deity dwelling somewhere in the cosmos. To these women, Diana was the deepest, most powerful part of themselves.And she was also the collective soul of womankind. The secret rituals they held here were sacred and beautiful. Trying the nudity was an attempt to learn to see and love the beauty of their own bodies--a direct challenge to the way society taught women to think of themselves. And it was also to satisfy the curiosity they'd all felt when reading that some Witches practiced their rites only in the nude. "Magical requests, before we close?" Selene asked. She felt incredibly free and slightly wicked standing bare-breasted in the moonlight. Not that she hadn't done ritual in the nude before. She had. But only when she was all alone and certain no one would ever find out. This was entirely different. Marcy raised her hand, knowing full well that wasn't necessary. "I know I ask every month, but could we just try to turn my ex into a toad?" Selene shook her head slowly. It was an old joke, but still funny. They didn't do harm. They just didn't. "Fine. Then let's work to ensure my custody battle gets settled in the best possible way for the boys." "Works for me," Selene said, and she stepped aside. Marcy moved to the altar at the center of the circle taking with her a photo of her sons, Jack and Joey, both blond, blue-eyed angels, six and eight respectively. She removed the drawstring pouch from the sash at her waist, and laid that beside the photo. Everyone knew it contained a lock of each boy's hair. Then she stood, hands extended to feel the energy, and she led the chant. "Be it me or be it him, give my boys the best for them." "Be it her or be it him," the women repeated, "give her boys the best for them." The others began to move in a clockwise circle around the altar, chanting with Marcy in a slow and steady rhythm. Selene picked up a rattle. Erica kept time on a smalShayne, Maggie is the author of 'Dangerous Lover ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373275137 and ISBN 0373275137.