Wrath of a Wonderfully Wicked Witch (Return to Oz With a Vengeance Book 2)

by Warren Thomas

  Jezebelle's officers promised to push harder to complete the crossing. Glinda watched them depart, looking eager and confident. Then she turned sultry eyes toward Jezebelle.

  “I have some ideas to get the rest of your army across the river tomorrow. By evening, you'll be across and moving toward Emerald City,” Glinda said. “I promise.”

  “And if you fail?”

  Glinda wagged her brows. “Then I guess I'll just have to spend another night here, with you.”

  The Wicked Witch's eyes dropped to Glinda's lips. She fidgeted, looking a little distressed. Glinda smiled, before pressing sensuously up to her. Eye to eye, lips to lips, they gazed at each other a long moment. Glinda loved the feel of Jezebelle's larger breasts pressed against her own. She rubbed her belly against Jezebelle's before reaching up to caress her lovely face.

  “You are very sexy, Jez,” she whispered. “Now that I don't have Scarecrow riding me hard, deciding who I can and can't play with… I'd like to get to know you better.”

  The blonde beauty's breath whooshed out. She became flushed, starting to pant. So Glinda tilted her head, lips slowly parting. Jezebelle mirrored her. A tiny smile curled Glinda's lips as she pressed closer and claimed the other Witch's warm red lips.

  “Mmmm,” they groaned in unison.

  “I had dreams of becoming one of your Sa'Kor in my youth, but then Dorothy killed the Wicked Witch of the East,” Jezebelle whispered. “The Land had other plans for me.”

  Glinda kissed her again, before nibbling a line down her neck, across her shoulder. Jezebelle's head rolled back, her hands clutched at Glinda. The deposed Imperial Witch felt her insides warm, becoming tingly. She shifted her left foot to a spot between Jezebelle's feet, leaving them both straddling each other's left thigh. And then she kissed and nuzzled her way back up her would-be lover's neck.

  “You flatter me,” Glinda purred into her ear, then nibbled on her lobe. She felt the other Witch tremble for a second. “You are so beautiful, so sexy. My body aches to taste every inch of you.”

  Glinda's left hand cupped one of Jezebelle's boobs, before moving between the Wicked Witch's breasts and started to unfasten her bustier. Jezebelle stared at her, a look of bliss on her face. A moment later the flimsy garment hit the floor.

  Glinda paused to magic away her travel clothes, leaving her in a pair of pink thigh boots and matching leather over-the-elbow gloves. Jezebelle released her skirt to fall to the floor. She took her guest by the hand and led her to the back of the pavilion, to her bed. Glinda stopped her at the foot of the bed by seizing a fistful of silky platinum hair and yanking her head back.

  “I hear that you like it rough,” Glinda whispered into her ear. Jezebelle's only response was a wanton groan, body trembling. “So steel yourself, sister. It's about to get very, very rough.”

  A length of rope appeared in Glinda's hand. The strawberry blonde quickly twisted Jezebelle's right arm behind her back, binding it above her left elbow. Then she bound the left wrist above the right elbow. Jezebelle groaned, that look of bliss on her face intensifying.

  Forcing the Wicked Witch atop the bed, Glinda smiled with wicked glee as a pink ball gag appeared in her hand. She pressed up behind her lover, dangling the ball gag before Jezebelle's hooded eyes. And then she very slowly forced it between the Witch's teeth, spreading her jaw wide.

  This is going to be easier than I thought, Glinda thought. She tapped her groin with her wand, and a strap-on materialized out of thin air, already strapped tightly around her hips and upper thighs. It was a long, thick one, too, with knobs and ridges designed to intensify the experience. First Jezebelle, and then Wanda, will be put in her proper place. Dorothy will be my greatest conquest of all.

  Glinda thrust into the Wicked Witch.

  “Ugggh!”

  She thrust a few more times, driving deeper and deeper. Jezebelle trembled beneath her, grunting with each powerful thrust.

  “I knew you'd like that, my dear.”

  And then a black bubble flew up to hover before her face. Glinda blinked at it a second. The bubble pulsed, indicating its urgency.

  Why must they always send me a message at the most inopportune times?

  Glinda poked the bubble. A woman's voice said, “Great One, we've just learned that Locasta is pretending to be Empress Dorothy under a glamour. Dorothy left the palace with General Chopper and Warlord Lion. We still haven't learned where they went, or for what purpose.”

  “Huh?” Jezebelle slanted a look back at her.

  Glinda sent the ball gag and ropes away with her wand, and then they sat side-by-side on the bed and discussed what the message meant. Finally, Glinda lifted her hand, palm up. A pink bubble appeared.

  “Dorothy has left the palace. She is probably with Nick Chopper and Warlord Lion. Find her!”

  The bubble streaked away, dividing up into countless message bubbles, heading for all of her Sa'Kor agents spread out around the Empire. Soon, every single one of her Sa'Kor agents would be on the hunt for Dorothy. And then, Glinda would finally have her, and she wouldn't make the same mistakes her late sister Witch did. Oh no, Dorothy would stay hers, forever.

  Chapter 18

  “Is this the rainy season or something?” Dorothy asked.

  At least three fronts had passed through the Misty Mountains since Dorothy's arrival two weeks back. None of the men or beastmen appeared the least bit distressed by the constant wet cold. She wasn't even sure Nick felt temperature, though he did worry about rust.

  Nick had servants who polished and oiled him twice a day. Lion had some female beastmen who groomed him twice a day, both as a man and as a lion. As Empress, Dorothy had become accustomed to a team of nubile young women bathing and dressing her every day, but she was the only one of the three who failed to bring any servants.

  A black wolf appeared ahead of them. Dorothy reined in, bringing her troop to a halt as the wolf trotted up to her. She watched as the wolf began to morph into human form, quickly becoming a very beautiful raven-haired young woman. A very naked young woman.

  “Good afternoon, Wilma,” Dorothy said.

  Wilma bowed.

  “Empress, Warlord sent me to inform you of a town up ahead,” Wilma said.

  “There's no town on the map,” Dorothy said, frowning. “Our map is seriously out of date, Nick.”

  That was the third unmarked town they'd found since arriving in the Misty Mountains. All were north of the Monkey King's claimed territory. Mostly, they tried to avoid any settlements, but they were running low on some supplies.

  “Is it a large town? A market town?”

  Larger meant they'd find better selections and variety of foodstuffs, and usually better prices due to competition. She did bring a lot of money to feed her troops, but they were quickly emptying her coffers with their voracious appetites. Thankfully, the beastmen preferred to hunt for fresh meat, and usually brought back their leftovers for the humans.

  “I'm sorry, Empress, but no. It's just a small, dirty human town. It stinks like a cesspit.”

  Dorothy smiled. The beastmen thought all human settlements stank like cesspits. Maybe they did, but she'd become nose-blind to the stench after a year in Oz. The fact they hadn't reached the citadel yet bothered her more.

  “Lead the way, Wilma,” Dorothy commanded.

  The shifter nodded, morphed back into a wolf, and trotted away. Dorothy, Nick, and the troop followed along the road cut out of the mountainside. Thick forest and underbrush lined the narrow track, with only a slight incline.

  It took hours of riding before they passed through the saddle between two wooded peaks, and the land opened up before them. All mountain towns sat in the middle of small valleys or passes. The valley had been deforested and tilled by local farmers. The only trees Dorothy could see in the valley were next to homes, or in small villages. The town itself sat in the exact center of the farmland, with a moat and wooden palisades protecting it.

  Dorothy glanced at the westering sun. �
��Nick, I'm inclined to find the inn and spend the night in a real bed. A nice, hot meal and hotter bath would be divine as well.”

  “I like the way you think,” Nick replied. He would, since it was his night to be with her. “It'll be sunset by the time we reach the town and find the inn, so we won't be able to buy all of our supplies until morning. Might as well make the best of it.”

  It actually took a little longer to reach the town. The gate guards spotted them coming, so held the gates open past sunset. Dorothy stopped her men just outside the gate, and the thirty armed men guarding it, in the still bright early twilight.

  The town's garrison appeared to be all local. They looked more like a peasant levy than profession soldiers. None of them wore any armor save for simple iron caps and oblong shields. Only the officer carried a sword, with the rest armed with long-handled axes or eight-foot long spears.

  “Declare yourselves!” the officer shouted, hand on hilt.

  Dorothy smiled at him. “Just travelers passing through, Captain.” She indicated all of the armed men. “I admit I'm as paranoid as I am wealthy, so please excuse my rather large number of men-at-arms. May we enter your fine town? I yearn to spend the night in a real bed, and eat real food.”

  “We intend to spend a considerable amount of money on provisions,” Nick added. “I promise you, your merchants will be pleased.”

  Their leader, who wore no rank insignia, looked Dorothy and Nick over warily, before turning his gaze on the other troops. Finally, he scowled at the wolf. Since Lion and his beastmen never entered any of the towns they passed through, the town guards didn't have much to complain about. Beastmen would've put them on high alert.

  “The wolf is yours?”

  “Wilma is an exquisitely trained guardian. Don't worry, she's perfectly safe as long as no one attacks us,” Dorothy said. “I'll take full responsibility for her good behavior.”

  A teenage boy came racing through the open gate and whispered something to the guard commander. He nodded, an unhappy look on his face.

  “You may enter,” he said. “Welcome to Hycross.”

  Dorothy thanked him, and led the way inside. The gates closed for the night behind them. The townspeople all stopped to watch them pass. She noticed most wore suspicious expressions. But the stable master greeted them with a big smile.

  The town stables were across a narrow, muddy street from the inn. Nick ordered the troop captain to billet his men in the stables. The troops were ordered to post guards around the corrals all night, as well as guard the inn with Dorothy inside. Nick always worried about security first and foremost.

  The Prancing Elk Inn stood proudly, easily the largest structure in the small town. The fact it was three stories spoke of high traffic through that town. That was comforting, since everyone in town would be used to seeing well-armed strangers in their midst.

  “Welcome. Welcome,” the chubby, ruddy-faced man said, meeting them at the door. “I am your host, Horace. How may I serve you?”

  “Good evening, master innkeep,” Dorothy said. “We'll need two rooms for the night. I'll need a hot bath, and all of my men will need to be fed.”

  Dorothy haggled with him over enough food for her and all of her men. No haggling over the room with a large bed for her and Nick, and a smaller room for the troop commander. Horace ordered her bath drawn immediately, and then showed her and Nick to a table.

  Nick's small personal entourage followed them inside, and occupied a nearby table. They waited on Dorothy hand and foot, when not attending their lord. And Lion's beastman beauties occasionally helped her, too. Mostly, though, Dorothy was on her own bathing and dressing, which she quite enjoyed.

  Captain Coldburrs began rotating his troops into the inn for dinner, one squad at a time. It was a pace the inn could keep up with. Still, Dorothy was sure they'd eat up all of his food, and then probably empty a barrel of beer. Dorothy did ask the captain to keep his men down to two mugs.

  Right after 1st Squad, 2nd Platoon sat down to eat, a trio of tall, well-armed and armored women entered the inn. The locals all quieted down. Dorothy glanced at Nick, who frowned at the newcomers. The three women strode straight up to Captain Coldburrs.

  “Captain, please declare you intentions,” the most impressively armored woman said. “I am Lady Kala Brightblade. I rule here while my lord husband and sons are off serving in Jezebelle's army.”

  “Greetings, Lady Brightblade,” he replied. “But I am not in command.”

  Captain Coldburrs looked meaningfully at Dorothy's table. The noblewoman frowned, and whirled around. Dorothy thought she struck an impressive figure. Kala wore a silvery cuirass, over a white long sleeved shirt, brown leather pants, and brightly shined boots. An ankle-length white “shirt” hung around her legs and swirled out when she turned sharply. Dorothy noticed it was slit up the front and back to ride a horse. She was armed with sword and dagger at her hips.

  Wilma stood up next to Dorothy, hackles raised, and growled at the newcomers. Lady Kala's two friends stepped forward and put themselves between their Lady and the wolf.

  “Shhhh, Wilma,” Dorothy said, and stroked the wolf-shifter's back. Wilma relaxed a bit, but remained standing. “Be welcome, Lady Kala.”

  Dorothy remained sitting, not making any move to greet the Lady more cordially. From Kala's expression, it wasn't going to be a feel good encounter. Indeed, Lady Kala just scowled at the wolf a long moment.

  “I suspect your pet is a beastman,” Kala said. “Their kind aren't welcome in this town.”

  It was Dorothy's turn to frown at Kala. Jezebelle's army was marching toward Emerald City, and she was sure Lady Kala knew it. The fact the lady showed up armed and armored wasn't a good sign.

  “I raised Wilma from a pup, my lady,” Dorothy said. “She is very protective of me, but won't attack anyone who isn't attacking me.”

  Kala looked Dorothy over head-to-toe with a dismissive look. Yeah, she wasn't impressed in the least. Her scowl only deepened when she turned to regard Nick.

  “Another one of Scarecrows vanquished Iron Men,” she sneered. “Your kind aren't welcome in this town, either.”

  “Understood,” Nick said. “I am Captain Ironfist. I will take my mercenary troop away at first light, my lady.”

  One of the other two women snorted rather rudely. “Mercenaries.”

  Most of the mercenary companies peddling their services were soldiers orphaned by Scarecrow's overthrow. They couldn't, or wouldn't, pledge their service to Dorothy, so hit the road to serve anyone willing to pay their fee. Most of the Iron Brigade switched their allegiance to Dorothy due to their high regard for Nick Chopper. Others disappeared and became mercenaries.

  “Good,” Kala said. “We'll be watching you and yours, Captain. Do not cause any trouble in my town. Or else.”

  The cavalrymen had stopped eating to listen, hands near hilts. Dorothy could feel the tension in the common room about to explode.

  Nick scowled at her. Dorothy took the opportunity to look Kala over more closely. She stood almost six feet tall, which was even more unusual in Oz than it was back in Dorothy's world. Ozians as a whole tended to a bit shorter than 21st Century Americans. The Lady had long platinum blonde hair, twisted into a thick braid that fell in front of her shoulder.

  That is one tough looking Elsa, Dorothy thought, forced to suppress a smile. But she doesn't look like the sort to let anything go.

  That was the only resemblance to the animated princess. Kala looked like a badass, so Dorothy didn't want any trouble with her. Also, the two brunettes with her looked just as tough and unyielding. Warrior women born and bred.

  “You have a problem, woman?” the blue-eyed brunette asked, hand on hilt as she glared daggers at Dorothy.

  “And you are?”

  “Tara. And you?”

  “More trouble than you can handle,” Dorothy snapped. The open hostility of Kala's two bodyguards rubbed her the wrong way. Wilma's hackles rose again, and she growled menacingly.
The other brunette turned her full attention on Dorothy and Wilma. The cavalry men all rose to their feet, but froze when Nick held up his hand.

  “Tara. Fiona, “Lady Kala said, holding Nick's gaze with fierce gray eyes. “Stand down.”

  Dorothy lifted her hands, empty palms up, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs. Her heart raced at a mile a minute, but her face remained calm. Tara scowled, but straightened up and stepped back behind the noblewoman.

  “I give you my word, Lady Kala, that we will not start any trouble,” Nick said. “But if someone else starts a fight, we will finish it.”

  “We'll be watching you and yours, Captain,” Lady Kala said. “And I'll personally escort you out of town tomorrow morning.”

  Lady Kala turned and marched out, her guards fast on her heels. Dorothy watched them leave, shaking her head woefully.

  “Well, my friend, I thought Lady Kala was going to kick us out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Dorothy said. She paused to watch the soldiers settle back down to their dinners. “Double the guard. I want to be mounted and lined up at the gate before it opens.”

  “I agree,” Nick said. He motioned to one of the soldiers standing guard at the base of the stairs. “Sergeant! Escort our lady to her room.” He looked at Dorothy and smiled. “Your bath is waiting. I'll join you after I discuss how I want the guards deployed with Captain Coldburrs.” He held her eyes a long, intense second. “And then I'm going to get you all hot and sweaty again.”

  Dorothy's breath caught. Her insides got all hot and tingly.

  “Promises, promises,” she whispered huskily.

  Chapter 19

  Enchanted crystal globes filled the ancient hunting lodge with bright light. Men and women, soldiers in red, blue, and yellow milled around in every chamber, glaring daggers at each other. Their leaders, the Greater Witches, gathered in the Great Hall under the mounted heads of long dead big game. The expensive, yet sturdy furnishings were all pushed to the sides, with a large round table standing dead center. Glinda and her Sa'Kor generals stood together, between Wanda and Jezebelle and their generals.