The Wiced Witches of Oz

Chapter Two: Theodora

Theodora

I woke in the morning all alone on a dusty chair in a ruined castle.

At first I thought that it had all been a dream, surely it had been a night of wonders, and how could it possibly have been real? Then a much worse possibility struck me, it had been real; my jaw was sore, my lips bruised, and the smell of him, the rat, was all over me. He had run off, and I was abandoned!

I sat up and cried out in rage. What had I done? The taste of his manhood lingered on my tongue; what had I done? Had he tricked me into breaking my vows? I must have done something awful to feel such despair and foreboding. I started to look around for my clothes, and then I realized that Culane's, rough, soldier's jacket, covered my naked body. I settled back down and smiled, inhaling deeply the wonderful smells of his leather, gunpowder and sweat.

The few times that I had wandered these lonely ruins I had felt as if I was looking for something, and had felt the emptiness that had been left by the death of men. Now I knew what I had been looking for these last three hundred years.

Culane was in the overgrown courtyard, stripped to the waist and looking magnificent as he sweated in the morning sunlight. Men were really quite attractive, I was discovering. They were nothing at all like munchkins, or manchkins, those freakishly tall munchkins that passed for soldiers in our lands. Men were also not at all like witches, they had so much more to play with.

He was working on his flying ship, doing who knows what. "Will it work Culane, or do we have to walk," I laughed. In truth I could have walked on air.

"Oh, it will work, my beautiful witch," he said and came over and kissed me. "You look wonderful without that hat; you have such beautiful hair you should wear it down more often," he said, and stroked it before giving me another kiss. It was pleasant to have my hair, which took so much time to tend to, praised and admired, but I did not understand what he had against my perfectly stylish hat.

I wrapped myself around him and forced him to kiss me harder, regretting that I had bothered to dress again. I fumbled for the buttons of his pants, wanting to make sure that what I had seen last night had not been exaggerated by the romance of that dim, fire-lit room.

He stopped me, unwrapped me from his arms; "Not now, Theodora," he said; "I have work to do."

"Why not now, right now, right here?" I demanded shrugging out of his jacket.

"Do you really want to spend another night in this place?" he asked. I stopped with my hand on the button of my blouse. "Don't you think we would be more comfortable at your manor?"

"Ughhhh!" I replied and stamped my foot; "but will you hurry Culane, please? You have whetted an appetite within me and now you must feed it."

He smiled, and keeping a wary eye on me, snatched his jacket from the ground; "If you will go get your jacket from the castle, by the time you return I should have this lady ready to go," he said.

"What lady?" I demanded feeling a rush of jealousy.

"Why my ship; Rhiannon," he replied affectionately patting her timbers.

"You think of your ship as a woman?"

"Oh yes, all ships are female."

"And who is Rhiannon?" I asked taking a step towards him with narrowed eyes.

"Ah, she is the wife of a man who is even worse at cards than me," he replied with a laugh.

"Is she a woman or a witch?" I demanded.

"A witch," he replied putting on his jacket.

"Do you love her?" I asked, this angry jealousy leaping on me suddenly.

"No," he replied. "Not all witches are to my liking, some can be quite treacherous."

"Then why do you keep her name on your ship?" I went on peevishly.

He placed a hand on my cheek which drained some of the spite out of me at once; "Because, sweet, beautiful, Theodora, it is bad luck to change the name of a ship, especially when it is named for a living witch," he replied. I immediately understood; I would certainly lay a curse on someone who removed my name from a ship.

"Truly?" I asked reaching out to stroke his neck.

"Yes, truly," he replied, taking a step back, "Now go, you're holding us up."

I turned and dashed for the castle, giddy, but still fearing, in the back of my mind, that he would be gone before I returned.

My silly fears were unfounded, and soon we were soaring over the woods. I had no understanding of the man-magic that made a ship fly, and no interest in it at all. My attention was focused on the man who sat in the back, leaning on the tiller and fooling with some odd things on a low table in front of him. The flying of the craft preoccupied him, and I was scarcely able to cuddle, but I had plenty of time to observe him in the crisp morning light.

He was tall, although not freakishly so; in my heeled boots my eyes came even with his strong neck, and it was not too far up to his sweet lips. Naturally, I am the shortest of my sisters, but he was taller than Evanora or Galinda. He had straw colored hair, short at the sides and back, but thick and unruly on the top. His eyes were as blue as the skies around us, set in a face that was not at all pretty, but strong and handsome, made up of straight, weathered, planes and angles. Blondish stubble covered his cheeks and forceful chin.

I was quite familiar with his body, at least to the touch; the strong neck I had bitten, the broad shoulders I had clung too, the deep chest I had restlessly caressed, the narrow waist I had straddled, and the flat stomach where I rested my head between explorations of the amazing length and girth of perfectly formed manhood.

Galinda had often tried to entice me into her great library, but I had never been one for books, preferring to roam the fields and study animals and the plants in the wild, learning their secrets first hand, so I had not seen a lot of pictures of either wizards or men. I had seen some statues, and I gathered from what I had seen that Culane was shorter than many a wizard, but much more powerfully built, resembling the broken and cast down statues of the fallen leaders of men.

He held the big tiller under his right arm, and I was able to crawl up onto the raised platform at the stern and squeeze in between his table of dials and the rear wall, and rest my head on the warm leather of his thigh without interfering with his steering of the ship. From there I could look up at him, and he could smile down at me and stroke my hair which he seemed so fond of.

His face was as strong as his body, hard even, as he scanned the skies and often seemed to fight against the wind to make the ship do his bidding. I would have been afraid of him in daylight had I not already experienced his gentleness and patience in the dark. And of course he was smart; he might not be a wizard, but he could do amazing things. He had experience of the wide world, and knowledge of things that no one else in Oz could know, which reminded me, of course, of that most important knowledge that was locked somewhere in his fine roving head.

I walked my fingers along his thigh, pressing hard so that he would notice, and then stretched them out to trace the big snake that ran along his inner thigh. "Have you been thinking about me?" I asked sweetly.

He looked down, smiling as usual, showing his even white teeth, but without comprehension, and I realized that although the wind was but a hum in my cozy sheltered place, up where his ears were, where his thick hair blew about madly, it must be a roar. My coyness was totally lost, and I was forced to shout in a most unbecoming manner. "Have you been thinking about me?!!!

"All the time Theodora!" he shouted back, looking down only after he had given the horizon another quick scan.

My fingers sought out the head of his beast, so familiar had become I become in such a short time, and I gave it a good hard squeeze. Well, maybe I jabbed a little with my nails as well.

He jerked violently; "Careful with that Theodora, you little minx," he shouted.

"Have you been thinking about my problem?!!" I shouted back. I wanted to get up beside him, but there was no room.

He smiled easily; "The gears are turning," he said tapping a finger against the side of his head.

I had to be content with that, even though I had no idea what a "gear" was. By way of apology I returned to stroking his manhood through the worn, and temptingly thin leather of his pants, but this only got me bothered and wanting more. I unfastened his buttons and worked open the wide flap at his crotch, but it was all so awkward and difficult that I gave up with a disappointed shout and crawled back out of the little cubby and stood up to face the cooling, refreshing wind.

I was surprised to see that I recognized the surroundings; we were already approaching my manor at Hanslydowne. My capitol was at Weresend, a miserable little fishing village further to the east, but I spent very little time there -- there was nothing for me to govern anyways. Mostly I spent my time in Evenora's Emerald City where I could feel safe and comfortable. She had taken me in two hundred years ago when Dormadora took my land, and I had come to think of it as my home.

It had only been in the last twenty years or so, as I reached, and passed my three hundredth birthday, that I had become restless and confident enough to spend more time wandering about in the wilderness of my own little witchdom. I had fixed up the manor at Hanslydowne and was spending more of my time there, mostly to get away from Evenora's stifling dominance. It was modest, little more than a large cottage, but it sat on the shore of a pretty lake and was very cozy.

Culane had offered, in fact ...insisted... that he would champion me against Dormadora, even if it should cost him his life. He was outraged by the way she had treated me and believed he could make it right as long as we brought Evanora and Galinda in on my side. He had seemed so convincing, in the early morning hours when I had half woken from my dreamy sleep, but now, in the light of the day I wasn't so sure. If I could have had my way, and of course, I... never... have my way, I would have kept Culane a secret from all of Oz and squirreled him away at Hanslydowne as my own private pet, but he had pointed out, truly, that my sisters probably knew of his arrival already.

"They will come after us if we skulk like criminals," he had said. "Our only hope is to advance boldly and show them that we have nothing to hide, that we are strong, and determined to see justice done." I had been without my lands for two centuries; I could have waited another year or two, but Culane said that it was important that we move fast before Dormadora could react.

"And just think of what Evenora would do if she discovered that you had found a... man... in Oz and not brought him to her at once," he had pointed out with depressing finality.

He was right. Evenora was suspicious and unpredictable at the best of times, and I was already worried about what she was going to do about him. So I had agreed that we would spend only one night at Hanslydowne, and leave for The Emerald City the next day.

I wanted to make the most of it, so as soon as we landed I got after my munchkin servants and had them lay out a cold picnic in the master bedroom, fill the tub with steaming water, lay out extra towels, and then make themselves scarce until breakfast. I had been dreaming about Culane's big cock - that was his word for it - which I thought quite appropriate, since I woke up, and I was eager to start another lesson.

I had never been happier in my life; I had Culane all to myself, at least for the moment, and he gave me his full attention once he had tied down his ship. He seemed delighted to be with me, and was cheerful and gentle and charming. I had no idea what a man was supposed to be like, but he looked so rough and confident that it seemed strange that he could be gentle and patient as well.

It filled me with heat to know that unrestrained by those good manners, he wanted to eat me up just as must as I wanted to devour him. I had never been desired before, never been treated as someone of value, someone to be devoted too and possessed. I had never even given a thought to how the munchkins or manchkins felt about me, they had always treated me with awe and respect because I was a witch. And my sisters, who were temperamental, nasty and dangerous, had never been very nice to me at all.

All of this, the attention, the awesome joy of the lessons, the flying in a ship, was so new and unexpected, and so wonderful that I had no idea what was going to happen next. If this was what it was like to be in the company of men then it was a terrible shame that they had all been killed off.

I peeled off my clothes, tossed them aside and lowered myself into the large tub of soapy water that had been prepared in the bedroom. The munchkins had left several bottles of wine and Culane seemed very happy about that. He drank straight from the bottle while he took off his jacket, unhooked his broad belt, unstrapped his holster, and began to pull off his boots, all the while watching me with a confident, hungry smile. He reclined on the bed propped up on an elbow and continued to drink as I soaped and scrubbed.

After a while he stripped off his shirt and pants and came to the tub. "You're clean enough, my exquisite young witch," he said, and I squealed as he lifted me effortlessly out of the tub, gave me a kiss and set me down.

"Ahh, still hot," he said and stood a moment before lowering himself down into the tub. I stared at his cock hanging down, semi-hard; I hadn't seen it like that before and found it almost as exciting as when it stood up like a castle tower.

I dried myself, and then it was my turn to watch as he washed. Only his upper body was in view, but that was enough. The soapy water gleamed on the contours of his muscled arms and shoulders, and after a moment I threw off my towel, overpowered by the heat rising up from my loins, and I did what felt natural by reaching for the hooded lady hidden in my bush. I rubbed it in small, rough circles, feeling a sweet lightness wash over me as I observed him through half-lidded eyes.

He returned my gaze, more intent on me than his bath. When he stood to give his lower regions a good scrubbing his staff was standing straight up again. Watching the way he handled it, cleaning the shaft, the head, and down between his legs made me hotter than ever, and desperate to get my hands on it again.

"I think you are more than clean enough, my perfect man, come and teach me some more," I moaned and quite shamelessly thrust my pelvis towards him.

He tossed the cloth into the water, climbed out of the tub and came towards me, his cock swaying majestically as he made swift strides. It was the fastest I had seen him move, faster even than when we had been attacked by the barga. He didn't bother to dry off, just came towards me and then did something unexpected; he knelt down between my legs and began to lick me. I thought that was something that only witches did to each other.

Was that a proper place for a man to be? It felt good when Evenora did it, and it felt fantastic when Culane did it now. He was patient, and not too much of a tease, first doing quick tongue lashes to my inner thighs, then the outer edge of my lips, and then, ever so shallowly along inside, parting them just a fraction as he worked up to my hooded lady and began to treat it as well as any of my sisters had ever done.

The stubble of his beard was a bit of a surprise, it tickled at first, but as he delved deeper and pressed his face more firmly against me, it became more significant. He would run the tip of his tongue up my slit to take the underside of my hooded lady with a flick, and as he did so his beard would follow the same path with what seemed like a thousand stimulating bristles. It was so......teasing....... I reached down and held his head in place while thrusting against it, the beard, it seemed made the resistance all the more......pronounced. Evenora had never managed anything like that!

Otherwise it was all more or less the same angles and speeds, except that it was all made so much more exciting to know that it was a... man... down there, a... man... eagerly devouring my quivering quim. To me it seemed an act of devotion; he must truly love me to engage in such selfless, tireless effort to give me pleasure. I crawled on my belly all the way up that high mountain of desire, moaning, groaning, bucking and thrusting.

Maybe I couldn't gain release, but it felt sooo good to try. "Oh Culane, don't stop, don't stop, oh please don't stop!" I cried.

"Concentrate on the fire, Theodora," he called out. I did, and felt sparks in my right hand burning at the tips of my fingers, then I lost control and could only think of the fire between my legs.

I went right up to the edge, hoping that this time it would be different and I could get over to whatever it was that beckoned me from beyond; but I just couldn't. The spells placed on me as a babe would not give way. They declared with cruel finality; "a witch can only be satisfied by a wizard."

I cried out in frustration and thoughtlessly thrashed my legs about. Taking this as a signal I guess, Culane rose from between my legs, got onto the bed, and half knelt, half crouched to one side with his manhood hovering temptingly above my mouth. I stopped my moaning, lifted myself up a little and engulfed its proud head with my lips. I reached around and grabbed his tight bum with both hands and pulled myself up higher, sucking and licking.

"Suck on it, suck hard to draw out the power," he advised, and I did as he said. "Now take both hands and stroke the shaft while you suck. That's it, good girl, Theodora, like you are going to milk me into your mouth."

"Oh not yet!" I cried. "I want more."

"Don't worry, keep sucking," he said and reached back and fondled my hooded lady with his strong fingers as I bucked and sucked and stroked.

There was no end to the new things I could learn. Then he pulled his cock out of my mouth, dropped down and started licking my breasts, making them slick and wet. He took my hands and made me press my breasts tight together so he could thrust his cock in between them back and forth.

"Lift your head," he said and I saw what he wanted; each time he thrust forward, the head of his cock touched my lips, and I lashed out with my tongue each time it came by. Then he shifted again so that he was above my face and I was staring up at his heavy sack. He didn't press down on me, instead I grabbed him by the hips and again pulled my mouth up to test this new aspect of his body. How very strange, and different and wonderful it all was.

"That's it, get your tongue right in there, good, good," he said.

The smell of him was overpowering and transported me into a crazed state; I licked him like a mad witch. It was fantastic, I had never imagined that such bliss existed, and all the while he ran his fingers along my slit driving me even crazier. He moved back, leaned down and kissed me hard, then he slid back down my body to kneel between my legs, which he pulled wide apart. He stuck two fingers into my pussy and I moaned again.

"You're soaking wet," he said. "I think you're ready."

I held my breath, I had been longing for this, and now the moment had arrived. Would this get me over the mountain?

He put the great head of his cock against my pussy lips, and with a strong, slow, steady pressure pushed inside. I cried out with pleasure and then started panting as I took him in, so deep, so full. He began to slowly stroke in and out, and my hips rose to meet him. Faster and faster he went and my head sank back and my eyelids fluttered.

He lifted my bottom up, and pushed my legs back so that my ankles were at my ears, and began to drive deeper and harder. After that everything was a bit dreamy; he did many variations, and different angles, giving me new pleasures and all the while we kissed greedily and his hands crushed my breasts and bum. It was pleasurable, and went on and on, but I still couldn't get over the edge. In the end he took his gleaming cock out of my soaking pussy and mounted my breasts again.