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.

By layla


My trip to the library has proven less than productive. I don't know what my problem is but it seems like tonight my mind is all over the place. Well, more aptly, all over Glinda. I find it surprising even still, after all these months, the effect she has on me. I didn't even see it coming. For someone given a great deal of credit for my perception and intelligence I was an idiot. Luckily for both of us she proved far more intelligent. She refused to let me hide from my desires, my heart and in return I have helped her embrace her own.

To this day I'm not sure how it happened the first time. The first time she fluttered those lashes over passion brightened eyes and dipped her head in a move that seemed to both hide and accentuate the blush on her cheeks…the first time I stopped her eager hands from roaming freely over my heated flesh. I remember, vividly, her girlish giggle and how badly she wanted to kiss me. And I remember how badly I wanted to make her wait. I needed her to want so badly she could think of nothing else. I knew I would consume her body and soul and that she would let me. I would leave her aching and we would both know that the only person who could sooth that ache was me.

So I did.

Our relationship is something I never expected to have with anyone. My solitary existence had become a cloak I wrapped myself in, my armor against the daily stings and stones of life. With Glinda I no longer have to face it all alone she gives me strength and passion and has taught me that desire is not wicked. I feel a grin stretch across my lips and I remind myself that many of the things I do to her are, in fact, quite wicked. But the power I wield I am granted. If it weren't for her submission my will, my command would consist of so much empty air. Each time I take her body she is a gift to me. I am aware of the warmth in my veins and I pick up the pace wanting to be home.

As I approach our room my skin begins to prickle. The air just outside our door is heavy like a storm waiting to break. The energy hits me squarely in the chest and travels deliciously southward a thick liquid feeling. I wonder what my lover has been up to while I've been at the library. Delicious images dance through my mind of her glorious creamy skin flushed pink with heat and desire. I hope she has been good while I've been gone. Well most of me hopes that she has, the rest hopes that she hasn't. It can be so much more fun when she hasn't been good.

I reach for the door knob schooling my pulse and my breathing, steadying my hands before I enter. I can tell I'm going to need to be prepared for whatever waits on the other side. I have become attuned to my lover's energies and I can feel them building, like summer wind warm and fluttering past me as she draws them to her. I feel another shiver skitter across my skin as my hand touches the door knob and I am forced to pause as a most unfamiliar sensation strikes me and my knees nearly buckle. I force strength enough to walk back into my legs and enter.

I am not disappointed by the vision that greets me when I swing open the door. Glinda is beautiful, astonishingly so, really. She has dressed to draw my attention and her efforts have proven quite successful. I pause to drink in the sight and my eyes are drawn to her face, she is so determined, strong, powerful. The door shuts and locks behind me with a wave of her elegant hand. I let the question read in my expression, my brow arching. It would seem my Kitten has a plan for me tonight. She does not, however, seem ready to share it with me just yet. That's fine. I can be patient.

I cross the room to rid myself of my bag and indulge in the opportunity to take in the splendor that is my lover in a corset and whisper thin silk stockings. Each curve and dip of her figure is accentuated to perfection. I attempt to be secretive in my glances at her breasts but I decide there is no need. She wants me to look and, at the moment, I'm more than willing to give Glinda what she wants. I feel the heady heat of desire start to warm my blood as I stop in front of her. My gaze bears down upon her and I am secretly surprised by her resistance. I see many things in the depths of her eyes, passion desire love and something new. Steel.

My surprise now comes through my gaze and I can't resist the rumbling laughter that builds in my chest. It is not that I find her strength laughable, quite the opposite in fact. But her gaze locked with mine tells me that she thinks I will kneel, that I will surrender. This amuses me. Her eyes flash with dark menace telling me in no uncertain terms that I will pay for my amusement.

"So it would seem the Kitten thinks she has claws," I make a point of emphasizing my name for her, reminding her of her place and mine. No sooner have the words left my mouth than I feel her hand tangle forcefully in my hair and my head is yanked down toward her. Her breath is hot and insistent against my ear as I feel her anger roughened voice course through my veins.

"She does not think my dear, she knows," with the words I feel her tongue deliberately brush a spot below my ear that she knows makes me melt. For the second time since arriving home I feel my knees go weak and it takes more strength that I expect to solidify my stance. She will not win this victory so easily as that. As talented as my love's tongue may be it will take more than one swipe of the Kitten's tongue to bring this Alley Cat to her knees.

I need to regain control and I reach out to do so with a well placed nip of my teeth on the flesh of her shoulder. My forward progress is stopped so abruptly I can't help the frustrated sound that escapes my throat and I know she is emboldened by it. Her grip keeps my head pulled back and away from her inviting flesh and I feel my psyche begin to rebel at being held captive. My body, however, begins to transmit and entirely different response that pulses between my thighs.

"I don't think you have done anything to deserve such liberties, do you?" I will not dignify this question with a response. I have never earned liberties; they have always been freely given. Access to Glinda has always been mine for the taking. Until this moment she has always laid herself open before me trusting my hands and my body to protect and punish and please in equal measure. In giving her very self to me Glinda has blessed me beyond measure. For the first time it occurs to me that perhaps she sees me as a gift of equal value. I am sure these warring troubled thoughts are playing across my face and because of that she has won this first skirmish.

I see the look of victory play across her delicate features and I feel her fist in my hair loosen allowing me to stand once again. I don't comment on her question, I am not ready to surrender every inch of territory to this little conqueror, not yet. Her hand untangles completely from my hair and I feel the excruciatingly gentle touch of her fingertips on my face. I have always been amazed at the responses she can elicit with the most delicate of touches. She leaves tiny smoldering trails of fire in her wake and I feel my eyelids flutter closed quite of their own volition. As her fingertips graze over my lips I am hard pressed to keep from trying to draw them into my mouth. Her other hand glides over my curves exploring my convex and concave and I am forced to give into one of many urges and I reach for her supple body.

I am snapped back to reality by the suddenly fierce grip of her hand on my wrist. Her hold on me is just this side of painful and I am pleasantly surprised by her strength. She continues to hold my arm still as she drives her point home.

"Have you forgotten so quickly dearest? That is quite disappointing," her tone is challenging and the feral Cat within rises at the words. "That is twice you have over stepped your bounds. Do not let it happen again." My eyes flash as she attempts to command me. My body may be more than willing to take pleasure at her actions but my mind is not yet ready to give in.

"Should I fear the consequences my sweet?" I let every ounce of the challenge I feel within me bleed into the words. It is going to take more than insubordinate questions from her perfect pink lips to bend me to her will.

With surprising speed I feel her hand force my chin downward and those perfect pink lips are making an entirely new kind of proclamation. Her mouth is hard and firm upon mine and her tongue possesses me, fills me. This kiss leaves no room for doubt and I feel it course through my entire being. Her power washes over me in unstoppable waves and I feel my foundation shift under the onslaught. An animalistic noise rises from me to disappear into her hungry mouth. Her lips tear away from mine and I gasp for much needed oxygen.

"The consequence you fear is not what I will do, it is what I won't do," her voice brooks no argument. "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?"

At her words she takes her hands and body away and I am left bereft and alone. I hang my head to try and protect myself from the truth of her words. I am lost without her touch. I am lost without her. Desire for her pounds through me with each staccato beat of my heart, my skin is alive with need. I feel my hands form tight fists as the last bit of me resists her. She has given me this gift so many times. Her submission is beautiful and glorious and I have reveled in its honesty. What she is asking from me is so much more than I have ever given. Vulnerability has always been the most dangerous act for me. The idea of placing that much trust in anyone is revolutionary. With that knowledge I allow myself to truly feel all she has inspired in me and I know I have only one choice.

"Yes." It is the simplest most honest word I have ever spoken. I know it has slipped out quietly and could have been missed. I communicate my answer in the clearest way my passion clouded mind can come up with. My hands relax now that my choice has been made and I lift my skirt allowing myself room to kneel. The position I have seen Glinda in countless times feels foreign yet welcoming as a settle my palms loosely on my thighs and cast my eyes downward, waiting.

I feel my breath still in my chest. I know it is my place to be patient now. I have offered myself and now it is up to Glinda to accept what I freely give. My pulse still flutters and my body hums with anticipation. I feel Glinda's bright eyes upon me even as I stare at my own hands. She is appraising her prize and I find myself a bit nervous hoping she will be satisfied. I feel her soft hand stroke my hair and I know she has not found me lacking and warmth spreads through me.

"Such a good pet," her voice is thick with emotion and I feel it all the way to my toes. "Such a good answer deserves a reward, don't you think?"

"If you wish," my own voice is soft now that I have put myself in her hands. I want to be worthy of that gaze, I want to make her proud.

I hear a soft chuckle escape her and I feel her fingers gently lifting my eyes to meet hers. Her passion bright eyes swallow me whole and I almost miss the words she speaks against my lips. "I do wish." I am lost in her lips, her tongue. There is no conflict, no war in this kiss. Each subtle motion of her mouth courses through me like liquid fire. I feel as though there is no need for breath, no need for anything other than the sweet taste that dances across my palate. She rises again with a smoothness that belies the dizziness I know we both must feel and she motions for me to follow.

I obey.

She circles me and I feel her eyes rushing over me again. She pauses and I wonder what she has in store for me. "Dearest, remove your clothes." Her voice triggers some part of me that was unconsciously waiting for the order and my hands immediately fly to the buttons of my shirt. "Slowly." The word intrudes on my actions and I pause almost imperceptibly wanting to do this perfectly.

She takes my moment's hesitation as an opportunity and seats herself on the end of her bed. She rests on her hands with her legs stretched out before her demurely crossed at the ankle. Her eyes sparkle with mirth and desire as she watches me and I am suddenly, inexplicably shy. We have seen each other naked more times than I can count but this is…different. I am not just baring my body to her. I am baring my skin; my green flesh that has always been the outward manifestation of my difference, my sin. I offer this to her. Only she can paint me in hues of love and passion that will set me apart as hers.

I let my shirt fall soundlessly to the ground and follow that with my skirt. My practiced fingers make quick work of my boots and I step out of them. Under her watchful gaze I feel beautiful, free in my own skin for the first time. She gestures for me to come closer and I take a tentative step. She motions again and I don't want to appear to disobey so I inch closer until I am straddling her outstretched legs. I lightly grasp my hands behind my back waiting for her next wish.

My universe explodes.

One moment she is looking up at me and the next hunger is written across her beautiful face and her fingers thrust into me. I can't control the guttural sound that rushes from me even if I wanted to and I don't want to. She plays my body with excruciating skill. I am balanced on the precipice between exquisite fullness and aching emptiness. The deliberate slowness with which she enters me is near to driving me mad.

She looks into my eyes and I'm sure she is looking into my soul. I don't want to lose sight of those twin seas of crystal blue but the sensations are too much and my eyes flutter shut allowing my awareness to narrow to the aching wetness between my thighs. My whole world is her fingers and my heated throbbing flesh. I can feel the glorious tension building within me and I suddenly notice a change in her motion. My brain seizes upon the notion that I am about to lose that contact that has become everything to me and I reach out to stop her.

My eyes fly open as I grab her wrist. I am unwilling to part with her fingers. I need this, need her too much. I see that steely glint return to her eyes as she reaches a decision. I expect her to pull away from me and I brace myself. What she does instead sends shockwaves rocketing through my body. Without warning her fingers fill me with force and purpose and my eyes open wider. A groan of pleasure falls past my lips and a shudder tears through my body.

She has every bit of my attention.

"You will let go of my hand, or this stops," I feel her fingers move within me and I know she means so much more than just this moment. I loosen my grip wanting to convey the message that I had no intention of taking control from her. I feel her fingers slip from me leaving only want behind. I watch, enraptured, as she begins to lick and suck my wetness from her fingers. I decide in that moment I would give everything I would ever own for her tongue to touch me like that anywhere even once. I don't bother to silence my appreciative moans as she continues to relish the taste of me on her hand.

I watch as she scoots herself back onto her bed. She is gorgeous. She lies back on her pillows her skin flushed light pink against the darker pink of her bedding and accented by the bright white of the corset she wears. I am mesmerized by her body as I watch her hand leave her lips and slide slowly downward until it disappears beneath the lace of her panties.

She makes the most singularly delicious noise as her fingers make contact with treasures I can only dream of and all strength leaves my limbs. I fall forward knees striking carpet and hands grasping the bedding so I don't betray myself by reaching for her. I am transfixed by her. By the motion of her hand under delicate lace. I know what her fingers are doing but being denied the sight of it is torture.

"You like what you see?" Her voice sounds thick and gloriously passionate.

"Yes," I answer immediately in a voice I barely recognize as my own.

The sounds that she is making seem to penetrate the very depth of me. I feel my own body respond to the movements of her hand as if I was arching up into her touch. I can feel hunger rising in my chest. I need to see her. I feel the question form on my lips almost involuntarily and I hope my wish is granted.

"Please, Miss Glinda," the tiny added word of respect plays lovingly across my lips.

"Please what, dearest?" I am vaguely aware that her fingers slow their movements as the sweetness of her voice washes over me.

"Please let me see you," I know my voice sounds desperate, pleading. I don't care. If she asks it I would prostrate myself begging until sobs ripped my throat. I feel my hands fist tightly in the bedding as she slides her panties down and off her shapely legs.

"How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?" She slides her first two fingers over her swollen clit and I feel a rush of wetness on my thighs. My entire body reacts to her movements. I am certain I am vocalizing the sensations that course through me but I have no awareness of it. I twist the bed linens around my hands attempting to stop them from taking undeserved liberties. I conquer the feeling of temptation trusting her with my desires.

"Do you want to taste?" I look at her, utter disbelief and absolute desire etched across my features.

"I expect an answer, and I won't ask again," her words somehow penetrate the haze of shock and lust that clouds my mind and I feel as much as hear my answer slip past my lips.

"Sweet Oz, yes," I feel the energy of muscles held in check dash over my skin as I move onto the bed. She shifts opening herself to me and I don't waste a second before settling between her firm thighs. I lower my lips and slide my tongue into her. Glinda tastes bright and fresh like tart late summer apples and the mythic sea. Her hips lift pressing her hard into mouth and I am lost. All conscious thought gives way to instinct, the desire to please her to draw these gorgeous sounds from her, the aching need to give her pleasure are all I know.

I whimper as I feel a soothing hand in my hair and her body pulls away from my hungry, eager mouth. I briefly consider chasing after that which has been taken from me but I think better of it as her voice rumbles soft and menacing in my ear.

"That was wonderful, dearest but things mustn't be over just yet. There are so many more things for you to beg for." Her words are finished with her hand hard and fast twisting in my hair and pulling me upward. Her grip is painful and the sensation travels in sparks across my nerves heightening the tension and pleasure that is coursing through my body. She forces me on my back and straddles my hips. I feel the wet core of her against my stomach and it nearly burns my sensitized flesh. I press up into her my body craving deeper contact. My hands rise unbidden trying to reach her soft flesh. She swats my hands away not allowing me to touch. My need outweighs my sense and I try and touch her again.

Suddenly she has captured my wrists above my head and her face is bare inches from mine. Our breath mingling hot and heavy between us and then she is kissing me. Her kiss is hard and purposeful it speaks of desire and passion and possession. At that touch I know I want to be possessed, to be hers and no one else's. Her kiss brands me. I feel the sting of her teeth on my flesh and glory in it. I know her mark will be left on me, the record of her passion written on my flesh and I wish it would never fade. I want to wear it as permanently as her handprint on my heart.

"I'm going to let go of your hands, dearest." Her words fall on my ears powerful and commanding. "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." Her weight shifts freeing my arms and I feel her hands leave my wrists. My muscles flex with need but I override that instinctual command. Glinda wishes my hands to be still.

I still them.

Glinda's perfectly sculpted nails drag down the skin of my chest, the pain is exquisite. My nipples tighten to firm, almost painful, peaks and she rakes them mercilessly with her teeth. Writhing beneath her I yearn for more contact. None of her touches last quite long enough; no bite is quite hard enough. I am a mass of exposed nerves and arcing energy. My grip on her pillow has tightened painfully reminding me of the invisible bonds she has placed and I have accepted.

I feel the heat of her body stretched next to me and her maddeningly light touch outlines my shape. My breath is hitching in my chest and heat is coming off of me in waves. Her fingers make me twitch and jump at each new far too delicate touch. My core throbs painfully as I feel those teasing fingers brush my inner thigh, so close but she skips along never willing to relieve the ache that is consuming me.

"Something you want, dearest?" I swear I hear her laugh as she speaks and all I can manage is a whimper that sounds plaintive and pleading to my ears.

"Yes?" She asks, her tone teasing. I draw on some hidden reserve of strength to form words.

"I…want you."

"Want me how?" Part of me thinks she expects too much of me, expects me to be able to speak though the passion that is drowning me. I drawn in a deep shuddering breath and exhale the words that sit caught in my throat.

"Glinda, please, I want you inside me…Oh sweet Oz Glinda please… Fuck me…"

Her fingers slide into me with power and force and I scream into her mouth as her tongue mimics the motion of her hand. Her kiss is as strong as her fingers and it leaves me breathless as she pulls away looking into my eyes. The clear blue of her gaze has darkened to stormy midnight and lightning flashes there with each well timed stroke of her fingers.

My hips move with her in this primal dance. She fucks me with forceful purpose taking ownership, capturing mind body and soul in her hand. My body greedily grips her fingers drawing her in deeper. Her thumb strokes over my hard swollen clit and she rips a cry from my lips…again and I shout her name to the heavens…again and I feel my body begin to quake…again and my body explodes and I scream until my throat is raw.

The tremors in my body fade into sobs and I feel tears wetting my cheeks no longer able to contain the emotion that bleeds from my pores. I feel her small strong arms around me and I am filled with the scent of her passion tinted skin. I think I feel the lace of her corset rough against my tingling flesh but the sensation vanishes as quickly as it appeared. My arms find their way around her and she holds me protectively and I am free.

There is no doubt in this embrace, only love and surrender.

The End

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