Dorothy gasped. She opened her mouth to deny any pleasure, when she realized she was squirming, rubbing her thighs together, and her sex felt quite hot, tingly, and slick. Even more obvious, her very erect nipples poked at her night gown.
Dammit. I always did like it kind of rough, she thought, feeling her face heat up. Just thinking about her late husband, and their playtime in bed, left her breathless and body raging with inner fire. Her pussy started to throb with achy need. So embarrassing. You'd think I'd be past those wicked desires at my age.
"Kill her," the woman continued. She looked young, maybe around Dorothy's restored body's age. No older than early twenties. "Make Dorothy suffer like we suffer."
Killing her over what someone else had done to them seemed rather extreme, but Dorothy wasn't worried. The Silver Shoes were still on her feet, and she should only be three clicks away from returning home. The enchanted shoes, now transformed into 21st century silver stiletto Fuck Me Pumps, allowed her to escape her captors quickly and easily.
"Wait, before you kill me, please, tell me what happened," Dorothy said. "I've been gone for many decades, with no way to know what is happening here. How did Scarecrow become King? Where are Tin Woodman and Lion? And who is the wizard? Is Tin Woodman or Lion the Wizard?"
The villagers looked at each other, and finally shrugged.
"It's a sad, sad tale," the old woman said. "Shortly after you left, less than a year anyway, word reached us that Scarecrow, Lion, and Tin Woodman had joined with Glinda, and forced Princess Ozma to marry Scarecrow."
"Forced?" Dorothy said. That got her hackles up. "Why make Princess Ozma marry Scarecrow?"
"Ozma is the last royal," the old woman said. "Her father was the last King of Oz, about a century back. Like a witch, Ozma doesn't age for some reason. I think she is a fairy, personally. Anyway, we haven't had a proper ruler in all that time, but Scarecrow forced her to marry him, and then crowned himself King of Oz."
Eagan took up the tale, "Lion and Tin Woodman led Scarecrow's armies, conquering all the lands around Emerald City. The Quadling and Winkie Countries fell next, and then they marched north and conquered us. But just when all of lands fell under his rule, Scarecrow had a falling out with Lion, and maybe Tin Woodman."
"Really?" Dorothy asked. "What happened?"
"Something happened to Lion when he did battle with the Good Witch of the North," Eagan said. He frowned. "Lion defeated the Good Witch Locasta, and somehow subjugated her."
"Lion became King of the Beastmen, and declared himself Warlord of the Forest," the old woman said. "Then a new Good Witch usurped Glinda in the South, who declared Glinda debased and Wicked due to her aiding of Scarecrow and his armies. Also, word got out that Glinda was sleeping with Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, and Lion, as well as any others, male or female, she could get her greedy hands on."
That's not the Glinda I knew! Dorothy thought. What made all of my friends turn wicked?
"Shortly after that, new Cardinal Witches rose up in the North, East, and West. Two Wickeds and a Good to maintain the Sacred Balance."
The old woman then paused, lifted a hand palm out toward Dorothy, and scowled.
"Kill her now," the woman said. "She has magic. I can feel it. Kill her while she's helpless, or she will escape our justice."
"Yes!" most of the assembled villagers cried. "Yes! Burn Dorothy at the stake!"
"What?" Dorothy said. "That's a horrible way to kill someone!"
Dorothy was manhandled, half-dragged, half-shoved to a tall pole in the village green. Her arms were lifted and bound to the post above her head. Everywhere she looked villagers approached with armloads of dry tinder and cut firewood. They really intended to burn her at the stake.
"You people are crazy!" she cried. "I am not responsible! Blame Scarecrow! Burn him at the stake."
"We can't. He's too powerful to reach," a villager said. "Besides, he has become a powerful wizard. He is the new Wizard of Oz. King and Wizard, Scarecrow is all powerful. He rules with an iron fist." He paused to leer at her. "But we have you, and through you we will know justice!"
Men brought lit torches, and cast them into the wood surrounding her. As the flames rose up, filling the air with choking smoke, Dorothy looked off in the distance, toward the legendary Emerald City.
"You are going to pay for this, Scarecrow!" she cried. "This I swear!"
Dorothy struggled to break free of her bindings. She wasn't sure the magic of her Silver Stilettos would work if she was literally tied to the land. But she had no choice. Dorothy started clicking her heels together frantically.
"There's no place like home! There's no place like home!" she cried. Then concentrated on the attic of her old farmhouse, "There's no place like home!"
Chapter 3
"Ugh!" Dorothy grunted as she fell to her knees in the freezing attic. At first she wondered if she could be dreaming, or having a nightmare. What she'd just experienced seemed too crazy to be real. Then she looked herself over. She still wore the silver stiletto FMPs. Numerous bruises colored her otherwise flawless skin. And she remained young and beautiful. "I'm alive. I did it. I escaped."
And then her eyes narrowed, remembering why the villagers attacked her.
Angry voices downstairs reached her. From the loudness and clarity, she figured they'd left the attic door open on the first floor. All of her mementos she'd so carefully removed from the trunk were scattered, some of them trampled. Anger flared, and then the cold reasserted itself.
The only clothes that fit were her granddaughter's very inappropriate discards. Really, things only teenage girls and young college age women could pull off was all that was available. She scowled at the boxes, not finding a single proper dress. Micro miniskirts that barely covered your assets filled the boxes, but she did find a pair of short-shorts that didn't look like glorified thongs. They were a dark red, and snug without being uncomfortable. Her granddaughter had much narrower hips than she currently did. In fact, she found several pairs, all different colors, that fit, so stuffed them all in a small brown leather knapsack she found. Unfortunately, there wasn't any underwear to be found. Who saved underwear? Not ideal, but she shrugged and moved on. She found some sports bras, and put on a white one, stuffing the rest into the knapsack. Finally, she found a long sleeved blue gingham shirt and put it on over the sports bra, tying it off under her boobs. It was designed that way, with no buttons.
There were no shoes, so she was stuck with the silver stilettos for now. Besides, she needed them and their magic. She would've been toast if she hadn't been wearing them when attacked in the village.
"This is going to be fun," she said, shaking her head. Farm girls of her era rarely wore heels. To her, heels were going to church wear, and she'd never dream of wearing a pair with such tall stiletto heels. "I'll deal with it."
Dorothy paused when the voices rose downstairs. She listened to make sure they hadn't heard her. If they headed up there she would have to make a quick escape to Oz. But since they were more intent on casting blame on each other, she moved over to the weapons.
Her late husband loved guns. Her sons and grandsons all loved guns. Growing up around and with guns of all types, she was comfortable with them. Some of her grandson's weapons were useful to her, and not usually what a farmer or hunter needed. Yeah, he did have some military weaponry. Submachine guns were what she wanted. And lots of ammo.
Dorothy picked out two Uzi submachine guns, and filled the knapsack the rest of the way up with ammo. She slung the katana sword across her back, and then buckled on a pistol belt, with a pair of HK 9mm pistols riding her hips. The 9mms and Uzis all used the same ammo, so in her mind they just went together. And then, out of an abundance of caution, she stuffed a Browning 9mm, with belt and holster, into the knapsack.
"Now to return to Oz," she whispered, baby blues narrowing. She charged one of the Uzis, chambering a round. "With a vengeance."
There was nothing in Kansas for her. No one would believe she'd bee
n magically restored to twenty years old. Instead, she'd probably be arrested and charged with her own disappearance. So her life was in Oz now, whether she liked it or not.
Racking the charging handle of the other Uzi, Dorothy's baby blue eyes narrowed. She ensured the safeties were OFF, and held them up and ready for action.
Clicking her heels together, "There's no place like Oz."
The last place she wanted to return to was that village. Granted, she had the firepower to kill them all, but that's not what she wanted. Dorothy was after much more sinister game.
Clicking her heels together again, "There's no place like Oz."
She steeled herself, and clicked her heels once more, "There's no place like Oz."
Brief disorientation, blackness engulfed her, and then Dorothy staggered. The nice level wood floor of the attic was replaced with hard, rocky ground. She teetered atop the sky high stilettos a second, and then pulled herself together.
"Heeey, did you guys miss me?"
The villagers had just started to disburse. The fire around the pole was raging, but no one was inside the flames, and they didn't look too pleased. They all looked at her with huge eyes when she called out.
"How did you…?" one of them asked.
"I got some badass mojo," Dorothy said, eyes narrowing dangerously. She pulled both triggers for a bare second. Ratta-tatta-tatta-tat! She fired over their heads, but that sent them all diving to the ground. Then she smiled. "Anyone want to mess with me now?"
"Get her!" the old woman cried.
The woman didn't attack, but darted into a nearby house. The men froze, staring at Dorothy. The farmgirl wagged her brows, and lowered her weapons to threaten them. Even though that was their first experience with firearms, they instinctively understood a threatening move.
"Assemble the militia!" Eagan shouted. "We can't let her escape."
"Idiots," she muttered.
Dorothy marched down a street, heading for the river. Men appeared before her with square shields and spears. So she released her Uzis to hang from their long straps, and pulled one of the pistols. Taking careful aim as she continued to walk, the young beauty fired a single shot into the upper right corner of a shield, striking the strip of metal circling around its edge.
"Yeeoow!" the shield holder cried as it was smashed brutally around by that shot. "What the hell did she hit me with?"
"It's a steel arrowhead going so hard and fast it'll go through the wood of that shield, through you, and through the guy behind you," Dorothy said. "Next shot is to the middle of the shield."
The men froze, and then looked at each other. She took careful aim, and they scattered before she pulled the trigger. Dorothy nodded and smiled, happy to see they didn't force her to kill any of them.
"My great and powerful weapons strike as far as the eye can see, so stay out of my sight!"
Nearing the edge of the village, Dorothy found the river a rocky mess. It was white-water rapids as far as she could see. So there wasn't going to be a nice boat ride down the river. She didn't even see a boat anywhere. But she noticed two things at the same time. A road along the river, and a stable at the edge of the village.
Dorothy entered the stable, sending three young men scrambling away in terror. She shook her head. It was hard to keep the smile off her face. No one had ever feared her that much.
"They probably think I'm a Wicked Witch with powers to rival the Wizard," she muttered.
There were three horses in stalls. Dorothy picked out the biggest, healthiest looking one and saddled him. Then she filled up saddle bags with oats, which wasn't even enough food for one day. She knew the animal could survive on the grass along the way, but he'd have to eat most of the time. Hopefully, she would come to some kind of inn or way station where she could feed him.
The sound of angry men reached her. She sighed gustily. It sounded like the villagers had found their backbones again.
"I better get out of here before someone gets hurt," she said.
She led the horse out of the stable, mounted up, and looked around. Villagers were marching down the muddy street bearing pitchforks and torches.
"What am I? Frankenstein?" she said. "Don't look at me, I'm hideous." Pausing to look down at her young body, in her granddaughter's discarded clothes. "Okay, more like, don't look at me, I'm scandalous."
When the villagers broke out in a run after her, Dorothy urged the horse faster. It didn't take much urging, since the villagers were scaring the poor animal to death. She turned onto the river road, following it downriver. Her pursuit gave up quickly.
As she rounded the first bend, and the village vanished from view, she spotted a sign. It read, "Oogaboo one day's walk."
"Oogaboo? Do they mean Ugabu?" she wondered. Dorothy shrugged and grinned, taking up an Uzi in one hand. "I'm off to slay the wizard!"
Chapter 4
Royal Palace in Emerald City…
"Uggh. Uggh. Oh, baby," Glinda purred in her husky bedroom voice. With a practiced flip of her head, she tossed her waist-length strawberry-blonde hair to the side. Scarecrow groaned beneath her, and continued to thrust upward to meet her halfway. "You're the king, baby. My lord and master. Oooooooh."
The king's ginormous cock stretched her pussy out so wonderfully. She felt just the right amount of pain to sweeten the pleasure. Her belly felt like hot jelly, all quivery and tingly. Scarecrow's full length and girth slid in and out of her in its entirety, something he trained her to do for his pleasure, but Glinda was pretty sure she enjoyed it even more.
"Of all my lovers, Glinda, you're the best," Scarecrow gasped out.
His rough, gloved hands mauled her high, firm breasts. There was no subtly in the Wizard of Oz. He was worse than a teenage boy doing it for the first time. But then he shifted his grip on her perfect pair, and began pinching, pulling, and rolling her super-sensitive nipples.
"Yes!" she cried. "Just like that, baby."
Scarecrow sent the most amazing ripples through her overheated body with every pinch, pull, and nip roll. Her long, delicate fingers combed up into her silky tresses as she sat up straighter and bounced like a madwoman upon his cock. Soon that rush to climax began, and quickly consumed her. Her vagina clamped down hard around her master's penis, making him cry out.
"Ooooooh, yes," Glinda cried as her insides erupted with divine pleasure. "Yes. Yes. Yes!"
She continued to bounce up and down his cock through her orgasm, and sighed gustily when she felt Scarecrow come and fill her with his seed. A deep sense of satisfaction washed through the gorgeous Witch.
Quite happy to stay impaled upon his cock, which only softened when he willed it so, the once Good Witch of the South lay atop her lord and master, smiling blissfully as she snuggled. She loved it when he allowed her to snuggle, because the heartless bastard usually just tossed her to the side once he finished.
Glinda pressed into him, and straw jabbed her soft, smooth skin through his body sock. That killed her mood, as her mind wandered to the problem of turning his straw-stuffed body into something at least vaguely human. He was so obsessed with becoming fully human that she feared he'd destroy himself with another crazy, ill-thought out spell.
The last spell that the Wizard of Oz thought would be his answer failed, and in doing so spread out across all of the lands of Oz and made almost every non-human race into humans. That caused a five year civil war when he admitted he couldn't reverse the spell. Glinda was originally horrified by what the Wizard had done, but she consoled herself in the knowledge each race still kind of resembled the original versions of themselves.
Tin Woodman partially changed, now half-flesh and blood, half-metal, while Lion changed into a shifter, going between lion and human, and something halfway between the two. None of the human races were changed, including the witches. Good thing, because she couldn't live without her magic.
"I want you to suck my dick," Scarecrow said, pushing down on her shoulders.
She sat up, still straddling
him, and regarded the King and Wizard of Oz. Scarecrow's appearance had changed dramatically over the decades. Originally, he appeared to be a common scarecrow. Now, he looked like something out of a childhood nightmare. His head remained a shapeless hat and burlap face stuffed with straw, but his cutout eyes glowed with red fire and his wickedly grinning mouth contained sharp, pointed teeth and fangs. Glinda managed to get him out of his original clothing and into a body-stocking of fine linen, so he could change clothes and dress like a king. But his hands remained a pair of old work gloves.
Magic animated him, and she still hadn't figured out which spell did the job, or who cast it. Probably the late Wicked Witch of the East. Everyone knew she was batshit crazy.
Of course, when he learned magic, it had strengthened and firmed up his body. Like a real man, the first thing he did was create a huge penis and balls.
"I want you to learn how to ask nicely."
"I'm King. I don't ask," he said. "I command."
"Command more nicely," she begged softly, bending over to kiss and nuzzle his face. "You make me feel like a cheap whore when you treat me like this."
"You are my…" he started to say. She stiffened, waiting for the humiliating insult. But the Ley Lines pulsed, making them both sit up and look around. "What was that?"
"I don't know." Glinda rolled off of him and out of bed. She stretched out her arms and closed her eyes, head rolling back as she searched for any threat. Power flowed from the nearby Ley Line as her body channeled it, shaped it, and sent it out seeking. The Witch looked through the city, and then the surrounding lands. Nothing. She looked above, but the sky was empty of magical threat as well. "But that's the third time I felt it today. Something big has happened. I haven't felt a disturbance like that since Dorothy used the silver shoes to leave us…"
"Could the shoes have brought her back?"
"Of course," she said. "The Silver Shoes are the most powerful talisman ever created."
"So Dorothy may have returned," Scarecrow said, shrugging. "I suspect she left as well, since I doubt she liked what she found."
Off To Kill the Wizard (Return to Oz With a Vengeance Book 1) Page 2