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

by Warren Thomas

  That explains why there isn't a guard, she thought with a grin. Though I'm sure everyone knows what they're doing. They are certainly loud enough.

  Kala check the door. Unlocked. So she pushed it open until they could see the bed on the opposite wall.

  Damn, she thought.

  Dim moonlight lit the scene. Nick lay on his back, big hands fondling Dorothy's jostling boobs while she rode his cock with wild abandon. The steel-sheathed man's silvery body gleamed in the moonlight, while Dorothy's nude body shined with sweat. Neither wore anything, save for Dorothy's Silver Stilettos.

  They had a plan of attack. The Sa'Kor just weren't expecting to catch the two in the middle of sex. Still, that didn't alter their plan. Indeed, their victims' distraction should help them immensely.

  “Yes. Yes,” Dorothy cried out. She started bouncing more frantically, back bowed and hands tugging her pigtails. “Just like that. Just. Like. That.”

  “Go,” Kala whispered.

  Tara raced to the left side of the bed, with Fiona going to the right side. As one, they surged up onto the bed to either side of Nick. Each held a dozz-soaked cloth in hand. Those cloths pressed over the iron man's mouth and nose, even as he was huffing and puffing from sex. Kala rushed up behind Dorothy, throwing an arm around her as she pressed up against the sweaty woman's back. Then Kala pressed the cloth over Dorothy's mouth and nose.

  “Sorry for the coitis interruptus, my dear,” Kala sneered into her ear. “Orgasm denied.”

  Kala watched Dorothy's face intently. Her victim gasped, sucking in a heavy dose of dozz. Her body tensed, blue eyes cutting to look at Kala, before they rolled up and her body completely relaxed.

  Nick continued to buck a few seconds longer.

  “Damn, the old Tin Woodman was harder to put under than I thought,” Fiona said, gasping for breath. “For a second I feared dozz didn't affect iron men.”

  “Well done, ladies,” Kala said, while moving back off the end of the bed and pulling Dorothy's limp body off Nick's still erect penis. She stared at it a long moment, biting her lip. “Ah, the memories.”

  “What?” Tara asked.

  Kala shrugged. “My first assignment as a Sa'Kor, twenty-two years ago, was undercover at Nick's brothel, the Naughty Nymphs.” She grinned at Tara, then Fiona. “I spent two years working in that brothel before being reassigned to Hycross, and let me tell you something. That is the place to gather valuable intel. Men will tell a pretty girl anything during sex.” She glanced at Nick's slowly deflating cock. “As my pimp, Nick sampled my wares many, many times. And I enjoyed every second of it. Yeah, he's good.”

  “Wow. I'll never unhear that,” Tara said, and they laughed.

  Kala forced her memories away, turning to Dorothy. She had her orders, and a plan. First thing, she pulled Dorothy's arms back, crossed her wrists, and bound them tightly with a short length of rope. Next, she shoved a red rubber ball-gag into her prisoner's mouth, forcing her jaw uncomfortably wide. That strapped in place with multiple straps and buckles. Then she tied the captured Empress' ankles together. Finally, she tried to remove the silver shoes.

  “Aaiiee!” Kala cried, jumping back and shaking her right hand when the shoes sent a powerful stinger into her. “Well, I guess we'll just leave the shoes on her.”

  “The shoes are enchanted, and the source of her magic,” Fiona said. “In fact, those shoes are the most powerful talisman in the world. I suspect Glinda wants those shoes more than she wants Dorothy Gale.” She caught Kala's eyes. “If I wore those shoes, I'd be more powerful than even Glinda.”

  Kala's eyes narrowed. Fiona held up her hands.

  “Fear not, I live to serve Glinda Upland,” Fiona said. “I have no dreams of power and glory. I am Sa'Kor.”

  Kala nodded. “I am Sa'Kor.”

  And that said it all. Sa'Kor lived to serve Glinda Upland. They had no other ambitions or dreams. To serve was life.

  Lifting her hand, palm up, Kala spoke a magic word. A black message bubble appeared.

  “The bird is in hand. On the way,” Kala said, and blew a little puff of air that sent it flying away. “Let's get her to the flying carpet.” Her gray eyes hardened. “Tomorrow, we'll give our mistress Dorothy Gale.”

  Chapter 21

  Something hot and wet swept across Nick's face. He felt weight on his chest, so groaned and shifted, turning his face. The wetness came again and again, before he heard the whining sound. Then the deep, severe ache in his head registered.

  “Get off me,” he grumbled. Some kind of animal or something nipped his nose, and growled. Nick's eyes fluttered open to find a black wolf in his face. It was sprawled out atop him, which was a first. “What the hell? Wilma?”

  She nodded, and then struggled to stand. The wolf all but fell off him and the bed, and then half-staggered, half-dragged herself to the open window. And then she began a loud, soulful howl. And she continued to howl, over and over. Soon, other howls answered, as well as growls, roars, and screeches.

  “What is wrong with…” Nick grumbled, propping himself up on his elbows to scowl at her. Then it registered. Dorothy was missing. And finally, he remembered. Shadowy shapes in the night, pressing something wet in his face. “Dammit! They took Dorothy!”

  It had to be the Sa'Kor. They were notorious for using dozz to kidnap foes.

  Nick rolled out of bed and fell flat on his face. His arms and legs felt heavy and sluggish. Managing to get to all fours, he looked around. His and Dorothy's clothes lay all around, mixed together in their lusty haste to strip each other earlier. Her holstered guns lay to his right, with his sword to his left. Everything was there, except Dorothy. And her silver shoes.

  “Glinda! I will end you!”

  A terrible racket filled the common room. He heard angry shouts and pounding feet. Captain Coldburrs, still in his nightshirt, charged in with sword in hand.

  “Where's the Empress?” Coldburrs demanded.

  “Sa'Kor. Took her,” Nick gasped out. He felt his body responding better, but he still struggled to stand or speak. “Not sure how long. Find her!”

  The troop commander raced away. Wilma continued to howl.

  “Shut up,” he growled. “Everyone knows.”

  The wolf slanted a vicious look back at him. Her hindquarters slipped and dropped to the floor.

  “They got you with the sleeping potion, too?”

  Wilma nodded.

  “Can you shift to human so we can speak?”

  She shook her head. He nodded. Nick's head and body were still messed up as well, but he managed to stand. Wilma carefully walked over to him as he pulled his surcoat on, and then put on his sword belt. It was enough.

  “Come. Can you sniff her out?” he asked. “Can you follow the Sa'Kor's trail and lead us to Dorothy?”

  Wilma nodded, and started sniffing around. She sniffed the bed, and even sniffed him. Finally, she turned and left the room. He noticed Wilma moved a little better, and so did he. The potion was wearing off. Witches created dozz to put humans under for painful medical treatments, and keep them unconscious long enough for the procedure to be completed. It affected other races differently. That was the first time the potion had been used on him, so he wasn't sure how long it'd be before he was back to normal. Beastmen appeared to recover remarkably fast, too.

  Nick followed Wilma down the stairs, sword in hand. With every step, his humiliation burned brighter, and his need for vengeance grew hotter.

  I failed Dorothy, he thought. Again.

  Though Dorothy didn't agree, he felt Glinda's near successful attempt to kidnap Dorothy in the palace was a failure, too. Neither he nor Lion had saved Dorothy from the Witch and her Sa'Kor minions. In fact, it was Dorothy who saved them instead. And now this.

  Have I lost my edge?

  The common factor was magic. He vaguely recalled the feel of magic in the air when the Sa'Kor attacked, before they put him down with dozz. Even doubling the guards hadn't saved them.

  Lion charged t
hrough the front door just as they reached the common room. Wilma spoke to him in the beastman's yeowing language, before Lion shifted to human form.

  “Is it true? You let them take Dorothy?” Lion growled, fists clenched.

  “I didn't let them do anything, old friend,” Nick snarled back. “The Sa'Kor have a witch, and they used dozz too. I'm not sure how much head start they have, but we can't waste time arguing.”

  “Wilma says it's only been a few minutes. The scent is fresh,” Lion said. “Wilma, lead the way!”

  The black wolf raced into the kitchen. Nick scowled. She was recovering a lot faster than him, but he still felt better. Maybe back to half-strength. But he didn't have time to recover. Lion shifted into his half-man form and followed Wilma. Nick followed.

  Soldiers and beastmen joined them as Wilma yelped excitedly, increasing her speed through the dark, twisting streets. Then the town's alarm bell began tolling. The shit was about to get deep.

  Chapter 22

  “Ummmgh,” Dorothy groaned.

  Her feet felt like they were on fire, throbbing. Something was squeezing them over and over, pinching her toes painfully tight. Hot and cold washed up her legs. On top of that, her jaw ached like crazy and something hard was pressed into her belly. And her world shook and rocked in a way she'd never known before.

  Dorothy's eyes fluttered open. Her head began to throb the second her eyes opened. Yet, she still couldn't fathom where she was, or why her world was moving so oddly. It took a second for her sluggish mind to clear, and she figured out her predicament.

  “Uuuugh!” she screamed around the rubber ball in her mouth.

  The young brunette started bucking, writhing, while tugging uselessly at the bindings around her wrists. Then her eyes became used to the darkness, and she made out a dark figure running behind her captor.

  Her kidnapper's shoulder continued to grind into her belly. It was making her queasy. Or was it the drug they used to knock her out? Dorothy tried to shake the confusion, the discombobulation away. She finally figured out she was being carried over the shoulder.

  This is just rude, she thought. And undignified for a woman of my age.

  Being bound proved unnerving enough, but that gag was apply named. It truly was gagging her, in the rudest way imaginable.

  Must not puke, she thought, afraid the gag would stop it and she'd drown in her own vomit. Oh man, this is bad.

  Dorothy's struggles became more frantic. Her captor finally stopped and set her down upon her feet. She found herself face-to-face with Lady Kala. Her two guards crowded in to either side of her a second later. All three wore head-to-toe tight black leather.

  Sa'Kor!

  “Listen up, Dorothy,” Kala sneered. “I'm going to cut your legs free. If you cooperate, I'll remove the gag next. But first we need to hurry.” She held up a black bottle and cloth. “Your other choice is to be knocked out again.”

  The last thing Dorothy wanted was to cooperate with her kidnappers. Yet, if she refused and they knocked her out with that potion again, then she had no chance whatsoever of escaping. So she nodded.

  “Good girl,” Kala sneered. “You will make a nice, obedient slavegirl for Glinda.”

  Her words sent a chill through Dorothy. She understood what slavery to Glinda meant. That evil Witch had a very bad reputation.

  Dorothy's ankles were cut free. Tara and Fiona each seized one of her arms, and Kala took off at a fast jog. The two Sa'Kor forced Dorothy to follow. The Empress' eyes darted left and right, looking for something, anything, to help her break free and escape. And then the night erupted with howls, growls, roars, and other animal sounds.

  “They know,” Kala said. “Faster.”

  They ran up the narrow, twisting street. The houses leaned in over them, blocking out what little moonlight was available. Dorothy stumbled. It was hard enough to walk down a muddy street in stilettos, but impossible to run in them. The Sa'Kor half-dragged her along.

  Kala stopped when the town's bells started tolling. She heard shouts of surprise and fear in the homes around them. Soon, the townspeople would pour out to defend their town, carrying whatever they had to use as a weapon: bows, cudgels, maybe just rocks to throw.

  “We're almost there,” Kala whispered. “Be vigilant.”

  They started running, even faster. Tara leaned closer as they ran, and spoke into her ear.

  “We have a flying carpet waiting to whisk you away,” the Sa'Kor said. “By noon tomorrow, you will be kneeling before your mistress.”

  Dorothy's heart froze. Cooperation ended.

  “No!” she screamed around the gag, and dropped her weight.

  That brought the two Sa'Kor to a stop as they struggled with their unexpected burden. Dorothy lashed out with a foot, sweeping away Fiona's feet. Then she reversed direction and caught Tara behind the knees. The Sa'Kor cried out as she face-planted in the mud.

  Rolling onto her back, Dorothy spotted Kala charging her. She kicked up, using the force of that kick to lift her off the ground and onto her feet.

  Damn! I haven't done that in over thirty years.

  Dorothy lunged at Kala like she would engage her, making the Sa'Kor stop and drop into a defensive stance. Only Dorothy didn't engage. Instead, she turned on a heel and raced back the way they'd come. Tara kicked at her feet, forcing her to jump over that kick. She heard Tara and Fiona, cursing venomously, scramble to their feet to pursue.

  Running while naked, hands tied behind her back, proved harder. Still, the gag was worse. She couldn't get enough air.

  The Sa'Kor quickly overtook Dorothy. They forced her back against a wall, huffing furiously through her inadequate nose. They spread out and moved in slowly, long knives in their hands.

  “So be it, Dorothy. You made your choice,” Kala snarled. “We'll just take the shoes. And your head!”

  A dark shape flew into Fiona's side. The witch went down with a cry of surprise. Dorothy heard a growl, and more cursing.

  “It's that godforsaken wolf-shifter,” Kala cried. “Kill it!”

  Wilma savaged Fiona's arm, quickly turning it into a red ruin. The witch squealed in fear and pain. Dorothy saw Kala pull her sword, so lunged forward and kicked out at her feet. The Sa'Kor went down with a cry of surprise, while Dorothy squared off with Tara.

  She heard Kala rising behind her, and her stomach clenched tight. Shifting to the side, she got the two Sa'Kor in front of her. And then Fiona made a gurgling noise.

  “That wolf tore out Fiona's throat!” Tara cried.

  Dorothy didn't hesitate. She charged Tara, who stood half-turned away to stare at their fallen comrade. The wolf attacked Kala, further holding the Sa'Kor's attention. Bound, gagged, and with no other weapon, Dorothy used what she had.

  “Aaiiee!” Tara screamed when Dorothy kicked her as hard as she could in the ribs, stiletto heel snapping bone.

  Yanking her foot back, Dorothy sent a roundhouse to the stunned woman's face. Tara dropped to her back, but wasn't out. She still had her sword, forcing the Kansas girl to step close, lift her stiletto-shod foot over the Sa'Kor, and then thrust that sharp heel straight down into Tara's forehead.

  “Ouch,” Nick said. “Talk about killer heels.”

  Dorothy blinked up at the silvery figure before her. Then she looked around for Kala. The blonde Lady lay in a pool of blood at Lion's feet. He shifted from lion-man to fully human and slanted a disapproving look at her.

  “I don't approve of your choice in friends, Dorothy,” Lion said. “Next time you need a kinky midnight adventure, come see me.”

  Chapter 23

  A black bubble streaked up to her. Glinda noticed how it pulsed with urgency. Wanda remained a quickly growing speck to her left, with Jezebelle flapping up from her right front. Glinda had called the meeting high above the ground halfway between hers and Jezebelle's armies, forcing Wanda to travel the farthest.

  Glinda looked down. The battlefield looked peaceful five hundred feet below the Witch. Campfires flic
kered, showing where the four armies waited in the pre-dawn. The eastern horizon was beginning to brighten, soon the sun would paint the sky in another glorious sunrise. And the battle would begin.

  She reached out and thumped the bubble with her finger.

  Uma's deep voice burst out, “Great One, the armies of North and South approach. General Scarecrow says we have to attack now and destroy the Ozian Grand Army, or we'll be forced to turn around and defend ourselves. And we'll be trapped between two larger armies.”

  “Your timing sucks, sisters,” Glinda snarled, glancing north and south.

  “Really?” Jezebelle asked. “You're the one who called me over.”

  The Wicked Witch landed before Glinda, folding her huge white wings back. The flying carpet trembled a brief second as its magic adjusted to the added weight. Glinda looked her fellow Witch over. Maybe Jezebelle really was the most beautiful of all the Cardinal Witches. She looked spectacular in her light blue halter, over-the-elbow gloves, and slit skirt that barely clung to her hips. In comparison, Glinda wore head to toe Sa'Kor black leather.

  “I wasn't talking about you, my love,” Glinda said. “I just received word that Diana and Olivia have arrived with their hosts.”

  Jezebelle glanced to the south, face twisting into an ugly sneer. “Good. I've wanted to watch Diana beg and grovel before me for ages.”

  Glinda caught and held the blonde's eyes for a long, sizzling moment. The Wicked Witch of the East's expression softened. Then a mischievous look spread across her face, before she twirled her wand at Glinda.

  Her skin tingled, and Glinda felt the tight leather vanish. It was replaced with a pink and white leather corset, and a pink slit shirt. Her long legs were protected by white thigh boots.

  “That's how we all want to see our favorite Imperial Witch,” Jezebelle growled, biting her lip. “Pose pretty in pink for me, baby.”

  Glinda rolled her eyes. Maybe she shouldn't have seduced Jezebelle until after the final battle. The blonde Cardinal Witch had a reputation of being the most wanton of all the oversexed Witches.