DISCLAIMER: Wicked does not belong to me it belongs in book form to Gregory Maguire and L. Frank Baum and in musical form to Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holtzman and a variety of others. This is for entertainment and fun not for profit.
CHALLENGE: Submitted for the first International Day of Femslash.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
This was it, time to turn the tables. I expected to be nervous, perhaps feel a bit of fear but I don't not even a little. Instead I feel sure, certain that this needs to be done. For me as much as for Elphie. This is what I want, and I'll be the first to admit I always get what I want.
Up to now I have wanted to serve, to be held tightly in strong green hands, to kneel, to beg, to offer my very soul for the release only she can provide. But not tonight, this night she will be mine mind body and soul. Because I have known her power so intimately my body fairly hums with the idea of that power submitting to my will, obeying my command. The boys often speak in hushed tones about the many mysteries of the Philosophy Club as though I would be shocked. I often pretend that I am, but I'm not. What goes on there is imitation, production designed to titillate and shock. Without intimacy submission is meaningless, I know that better than most but now is not the time for such thoughts. No, my focus is on something far more pleasant.
Elphaba is at the library, research again. It is astonishing that one mind can hold as much information as hers does. Her intellect is amazing, but tonight I am more interested in her baser desires. The library will be closing soon, five minutes and probably another ten before the librarian finally gives up waiting and kicks my lover out. Then another ten minutes for her to get back here, back to me, back where she belongs. I let the feeling of possessiveness wash over me and embrace it for what it is. I do desire to possess her, I have since we first met. I want to burn the record of me onto her soul indelible, there was no one before me and there will be no one after me, no one who matters.
As the time of her arrival creeps slowly closer I find myself fidgeting, the energy I am trying to contain is seeping out in fits and starts, there is too much of it for me to hold. She best not be later than I expect, I will not be pleased if I am made to wait. Though, perhaps that is not such a bad thing. I can feel the grin spreading across my lips as I pass the moments entertaining thoughts of suitable punishments for her tardiness. I can feel heat spreading through my limbs as I imagine her fighting the feminine, almost girlish, noises she makes as my hand leaves stinging reminders to be timely on her backside.
I can feel slick heat spreading between my thighs and I indulge in the sensations for a moment, knowing this is only the beginning and relishing that knowledge. Once Elphie has returned I will keep my desires hidden behind the mask but until then I can allow the electricity to prickle over my skin quickening my breath and my pulse at once. I am tempted to relieve some of the building pressure, to ensure my ability to keep control but I quickly banish the thought. If this gift is to be mine I will earn it, besides this sweet anticipation is delicious.
I find myself pacing our small room, letting the energy flow from me. She will be home any minute now, and I want her to feel this the moment she enters. In my dreams she falls immediately to her knees, but I know this is foolish. It will take more than my desires hung like garlands of light around the room for that. Besides, it will be so much better if it takes time. It's always better when it takes time.
I turn just in time to see the door knob turning and I straighten my spine enveloping myself in the power I feel around me knowing this will do much to make up for my less than advantageous height. I let my dreams and desires fill my eyes, I know they have gone dark with stormy passions. I breathe deeply relaxing into myself, I am confident, assured. I am hers and without a doubt, she will be mine.
The door swings wide as she steps in, her bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder an eyebrow arched in question. I see her eyes glinting as though she knows what is going to happen here tonight. I smile, Catlike, because I do know. As soon as she has cleared the entryway I raise my hand and the door closes and locks behind her. It's a simple spell really, one usually used for convenience, but in this moment it makes a question flash through her eyes. I let her wonder; it's good to keep her guessing.
She sets her bag down next to her desk, her eyes never leaving me as she moves about the room. I have dressed for her accentuating my assets, tempting her with the rise and fall and curve of soft pink flesh. I need her to be tempted and I know she is. She tries to be surreptitious about glancing at my breasts and fails, not that I can blame her. The corset and stockings I selected were intended to grab her attention and it appears I have been successful. She stands before me now staring down at me with those eyes, trying to bend me to her will, she is waiting for me to flutter my lashes, giggle softly and kneel at her feet.
I return her gaze with equal measure, our first battle has begun. I see her eyes widen slightly in surprise and she chuckles as though my resistance amuses her. This does not amuse me. She will pay for that laughter later. I let my eyes flash just that message and her smile widens.
"So it would seem the Kitten thinks she has claws," her voice carries an imperious note making sure to emphasize her pet name for me. These are words that only strengthen my resolve and I reach for her abruptly tangling my hand in the mass of silky black hair at the nape of her neck pulling her down so I can press my lips to her ear.
"She does not think my dear, she knows," with those words I run my tongue over a spot just below her earlobe that never fails to weaken her knees. I feel as much as hear her breath catch and I sense her firm stance waiver ever so slightly before the steel is back in her limbs. I know her stubbornness, I also know it can and will be broken. This is but the first volley.
My hand in her hair keeps us close and she tries to nip at the flesh of my bare shoulder. As soon as I feel the motion my fist tightens pulling her head back and away. I have never denied her access before; my body has always been hers to plunder. I can tell by the tiny frustrated noise that escapes her she is not at all pleased with this turn of events, and that pleases me greatly.
"I don't think you have done anything to deserve such liberties, do you?" I let the question hang in the air. I watch her face as the words sink in. I've learned to read the minutest changes there, tightening of muscle around her mouth, a squint of the eye. Her face speaks a language I have taken the time to learn and it is speaking volumes about frustration and struggle.
She says nothing, letting the question remain unanswered. I am not surprised by her silence, I didn't expect anything else. I loosen my hold on her hair letting her body tell me if I have won the first point. She remains still, moving only to straighten to her full height making no move to reclaim my flesh, giving me this first small victory. I resist the urge to smile.
I untangle my fingers completely and brush my fingers over her angular cheek. I watch as her eyelids flutter at my delicate touch and I accept this as the first tiny surrender. I move further, my finger outlining her lips and I can feel her warm breath against them. My free hand glides up her side enjoying the slight curves hidden under her clothes. As I do so her hand reaches out to enjoy my more ample body. Before she can reach her goal I seize her wrist with deliberate force and her eyes snap open.
"Have you forgotten so quickly dearest? That is quite disappointing," I keep my grip on her wrist and I can feel her pulse quicken under my fingers. "That is twice you have over stepped your bounds. Do not let it happen again." I can see that these words push her. There is a spark in her eyes that threatens to ignite the electric air between us.
"Should I fear the consequences my sweet?" Her eyebrow arches as she speaks. I can see the challenge in her eyes. If I am going to wield the power I seek now is when I must do it. If any part of me backs down from those words my opportunity will be lost. There is no way in Oz I am going to let that happen.
I grab her chin in a grip that hints at pain without actually causing any and pull her face down to mine. My lips take ownership of her mouth. There is no gentleness in this kiss, no question. It is a statement that I dare her to argue with. My tongue fills her mouth and my senses are flooded with the taste of her. I feel a moan rip from deep within her throat and I swallow the sound.
"The consequence you fear is not what I will do, it is what I won't do," I state with utter certainty once the need for oxygen has outweighed my need for her mouth. "You fear that I won't satisfy that ache that has begun to burn in that sweet, wet cunt. You fear that I won't leave you spent and sore. You fear that I won't let you hear the sound of my voice when I come. Don't you?" With this question I let go of her. I let my hands hang comfortably at my sides.
She hangs her head, refusing to make eye contact. I see her hands ball into fists as the war wages within her. I know she wants me; it is coming off her in waves. I even know she wants to give in, give herself to me. I also know she doesn't want to admit it. Her strength is constant, unwavering and she fears giving herself over to this will be a sign of weakness. Deep within her she knows it is not, she knows we both deserve this gift. Her heart longs to lie open before me, I know this or I never would have started this game. It is a long breathless moment waiting for her to realize what I already know.
"Yes," the word is almost lost in the pounding of blood in my ears. The motion, however, is impossible to miss. Her hands grasp her skirt lifting it just enough to allow her to kneel at my feet. She sits, perfectly, in a position I have held countless times. Her head bowed, her hands resting loosely on her thighs, waiting.
My breath catches at the sight. She is beautiful.
I allow myself a moment to relish this feeling, to completely embrace the truth of this moment. The proudest, strongest person I have ever met has just willingly laid her most vulnerable self at my feet. A nearly overwhelming wave of desire washes through my body and I want to ravish her, consume her. It takes all of my strength to control my aching need. I reach down and stroke her hair, reassuring her that her gift has been accepted and reassuring myself that this is real.
"Such a good pet," I murmur in a throaty voice. "Such a good answer deserves a reward, don't you think?"
"If you wish," her voice is soft, no longer at war with itself.
I chuckle softly at her answer, so sincere. I can hear her desire to please laced through those few words. I reach down and lift her chin until I can look into those dark eyes made bright with unspent emotion and desire. "I do wish," the words slip from my tongue and into her waiting mouth. This kiss is different. There is no argument, no battle of wills. I explore the tastes and textures of her, learning and relearning her lips her tongue her teeth. I continue well past the need for breath leaving us both gasping. I stand, covering the mild dizziness I feel, and motion for her to do the same.
I walk in a circle around her admiring her from all angles and I reach a decision. My Elphie is entirely too clothed. "Dearest, remove your clothes." There is no denying the command in my voice. I am not inclined to give options. I want what I want, and right now I want to see as much of that gorgeous green flesh as I can. I catch the slightest pause before she begins undoing the buttons of her shirt. She is quite efficient, almost too much so. "Slowly."
Her hands still for a moment as though she is deciding, not if, but how to follow my order. I take the opportunity to seat myself on the end of my bed. I lean comfortably back on my hands and cross my legs at the ankle to affect an air of nonchalance. She has reached the last button and is slipping her blouse from her shoulders. She looks at me with uncharacteristic shyness and I realize what it means to have this woman standing here before me baring herself. Yes, I have seen her naked many times my hands have roamed over her flesh but this is different. Her skin has always been her shame, her unwitting sin yet she will bare it all to me and I will paint it in colors of desire and want and make it something else.
Her shirt falls in a whisper to the floor as does her skirt. She makes efficient work of the laces of her boots and steps out of them resplendent before me cloaked only in the shimmering soft green of her skin. My eyes again roam over her like a caress. I motion for her to come closer and she takes a tentative step. I motion again and she inches toward me until she is straddling my outstretched legs. Her hands are grasped loosely behind her back as she waits for my next command. With her this close I have no choice but to give in, for at least a moment, to what I've been longing for.
I slide my hand up the inside of her thigh and slip two fingers into the wet heat I know will be waiting for me. A sound erupts from her that is somewhere between a gasp and a moan and I enjoy the resonance of it in my ears. I am impressed with her ability to remain standing as I continue my assault. I draw my fingers in and out of her with excruciating slowness wanting her to feel the absence of my fingers as much as their presence. The feel of her sends flashes of molten bliss through my veins and I must resist the urge to give myself over to them. There will be no rushing.
I look up into her eyes as she stands quivering over me. I see her eyes start to drift shut and my hand stills. Her eyes open and plead silently with me. I resume my slowly teasing motion. I feel her body beginning to tighten around me, I feel her wetness pooling in the palm of my hand. I can see the flush rising in her skin. I still my hand once more and begin to take my hand way. I hear a growl and feel her strong hand wrap around my wrist. I see the feral glow in her eyes and note that I have only the briefest opportunity to reassert my control. Instead of fighting her grip, a battle of strength I may lose, I press my fingers back into her in one swift solid motion. The look in her eyes tells me I once again have her full attention.
"You will let go of my hand, or this stops," I flutter my fingers to drive my point home. I feel her fingers loosen as a look of genuine contrition comes over her face. I, again, slowly remove my fingers making it clear that she will not dictate the pace of this journey. My fingers are slick with her and I draw them to my mouth unable to resist the sweet salty taste that is so uniquely my lover. I draw my fingers into my mouth letting the flavor play across my palate. Elphaba tastes of earth and sky and magic. A deep guttural sound issues from my throat as I savor every drop that was left on my fingers and I hear it echoed by the beautiful woman above me.
I scoot myself back onto the bed leaning against my copious pillows watching the subtle tremors that course through Elphaba's newly sensitized flesh. I lick the last of her from between my fingers and slide them under the lace of the panties I still wear. I am so swollen and wet I cry out at the first touch of my fingers. This has precisely the desired effect on both of us. Elphaba's knees buckle and she falls forward kneeling at the foot of my bed staring with a look of white hot desire at the spot where my hand disappears behind lace. Pleasure rockets through my body reminding me of all the reasons I am right here right now with this woman.
"You like what you see?" I ask the question knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it.
"Yes," there is no hesitation as the word comes out strangled with passion.
At the sound of her voice my fingers begin finding the perfect slow rhythm circling my clit enticing a moan from deep in my throat. My pace quickens and I begin panting, I can feel her eyes on me like a caress.
"Please, Miss Glinda," my eyes open as I look at my lover, her use of the polite honorific is not lost upon me even in my passion fogged mind.
"Please what, dearest?" I slow the movement of my fingers in order to concentrate on her words.
"Please let me see you," there is such desperation in her voice as she asks I can't deny her. I slide my hand away from my heat and slip lace panties down my legs and off. I lie back once again, offering her the view she so prettily asked for.
"How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?" My fingers return to their previous occupation now with more freedom of motion. The sound that escapes from Elphaba at the sight is unlike any I've heard. I can see her hands fisting in the bed linens in an attempt to keep herself in check. She is behaving so well I decide she deserves another reward.
"Do you want to taste?" It looks for a brief moment like she may cry with joy at the question. Her eyes jump upward to meet mine and her mouth hangs open as though she is shocked to be offered such a treat.
"I expect an answer, and I won't ask again," these words seem to snap her out of her haze.
"Sweet Oz, yes," the words are uttered on a whispers way to a moan as she climbs onto the bed. I open myself to her allowing her to settle comfortably between my thighs. This is all the encouragement she needs and her tongue slides perfectly between my folds. My back arches and I press myself firmly into her mouth. I am so close to the edge already I let the scream rip from my throat at her touch. I allow myself to become lost in this woman, in the sensations she draws forth from my willing flesh. She is worshipful and I accept her offering.
I want the release she offers but I won't take it, not yet. With a strength I didn't know I possess I pull myself away gently stroking her hair. Elphaba makes a sound of utmost disappointment.
"That was wonderful, dearest but things mustn't be over just yet." I speak in a low, almost predatory tone, "there are so many more things for you to beg for." With those words I once again tangle my hand in her inky black hair causing a small gasp to escape from her as I pull back. I am rough with her as I maneuver both of us into my desired position. My grip in her hair is tight enough to pull and I know the pain of it only heightens her pleasure. I roll her over and straddle her thin hips pressing my wetness onto her belly making her writhe against me. Her hands reach for me and I bat them away but she is not so easily dissuaded.
I grab her wrists and pin her arms over her head bringing us face to face. We are so close our breaths mingle and I lean in with a bruising kiss never loosening my hold on her. In this position the difference in our height is irrelevant; there is no question about who holds the power here. I rain down kisses and bites across her lips and neck leaving marks I'm sure will still be glaring in the morning, even on her complexion.
"I'm going to let go of your hands, dearest. When I do you won't move them, you won't touch, you are mine tonight and I will have you precisely as I desire." I don't ask if she understands I know she does. I am reassured of her understanding when I move and she remains still. I can see the muscles in her shoulders and arms flex as she masters the impulse to reach out. There is no need for ropes or cuffs my words and her desire to obey are the only bonds necessary for either of us.
I waste no time in taking full advantage of her body in this pose. Her lithe, willowy body is stretched out beneath me every inch opened and exposed to my touch. I drag my nails down her chest just hard enough to cause small marks to mar her perfect emerald flesh. I watch with fascination as her nipples pebble before my eyes. I lean forward taking first one and then the other in my mouth scraping my teeth over their hardness causing my lovers body to arch and writhe beneath me. To her credit her hands remain firmly above her head grasping one of my pillows. I allow myself the briefest of moments to appreciate the lovely aesthetic of her green skin against the pink of my bed before I move on to more pressing matters.
I move myself further down her body may hands drawing patterns on her flesh my teeth nipping making sure I leave evidence of my path on her body. I want her to remember this tomorrow. I want her to remember this forever. I want her to remember always that I was here, I made her feel this, I set her free.
I lie next to her now, on my side allowing my hand to traverse unencumbered over the peaks and valleys of her form. Her skin is flushed darker green and I can see her chest rising and falling in shuddering skipping breaths. I enjoy how the lightest touch to her abdomen makes the muscles of her stomach clench and twitch. She is so close to the edge. I trail my fingers up her inner thigh watching the play of muscle under skin. I feel how her wetness has spread and the lightest touch causes her to open to me, invite me in. But I don't, not yet and I hear a whimper.
"Something you want, dearest?" I feel the chuckle in my voice as I speak.
Another plaintive sound escapes my lover and her hips jerk in silent invitation.
"Yes?" She knows she must speak to get what she wants.
"I want you." The words seem almost impossible for her to form and her voice is heavy with unspent desire.
"Want me, how," my hand moves dangerously high just a few scant inches away from where she wants me most.
With a strangled cry the words seem to pour from her. "Glinda, please, I want you inside me Oh sweet Oz Glinda please Fuck me " the last words are threaded through with such need I couldn't have denied her even i f I wanted to. And I don't want to. My fingers once again slide into her with purpose and force. I capture the cry that escapes her lips in my mouth and my tongue mirrors the motion of my fingers. I break the kiss and look into her eyes watching the emotions play out there as our bodies dance.
I fuck her slow and hard with a rhythm our bodies find naturally. Her hands are still above her head, even now she obeys and I accept the gift I've been given. I feel her tighten around my fingers wanting to keep them inside and I glory in the sensation. I swipe my thumb over her clit and she cries out again and my name is on her lips as either curse or benediction again and she quakes beneath me again and her cry is deafening and beautiful.
I draw the last tremors from her before I pull my fingers from her warmth. As I do I notice the shivers that quake her are accompanied by tears and I pull her into a tight embrace cradling her as her emotion is spent. I find the corset I am still wearing is now remarkably inconvenient and I mutter a spell under my breath. It's a shame I'll never be able to retrieve it but the feel of Elphaba's warm flesh against mine is more than consolation enough.
There is no doubt in this embrace, only love and surrender.
Return to Wicked Fiction
Return to Main Page