Page 15 of There's No Place Like Oz

“Tobias.” Her soft voice broke me out of my train of thought. I forced my nerves down, but I didn’t speak. “Will you help keep me warm tonight?” There was a shake to her voice. She sounded embarrassed but desperate. Without a blanket, perhaps she was. That would explain such a question.

“Of course, Dorothy.”Right. That settles it.I nudged up next to her, and I pulled her into my chest, encompassing her like she was a small spoon. I couldn’t let the scarecrow or anyone else get in my head about why I was sleeping with Dorothy. She needed me, and I was there for her, and it didn’t have to be any more complicated than that.

Chapter 11

Dorothy and Tobias were off doing the devil knows what in that makeshift tent, while I was officially on guard duty for the duration of the trip. I leaned against a tall tree, and I stared at the half moon sky in boredom. It felt a bit like being a scarecrow again, to be quite honest. Equally as banal and equally as lacking in real threats. It was going to take forever to get to the Emerald City if we had to stop every single day.Humans, I swear.

Which I would have been perfectly content with if not for the fact that, first of all, standing around while a pretty girl slept felt like a wasted opportunity for the both of us to have a good time, and second of all, not killing anything for hours at a time was a waste of my talents. It would be nice if some sort of monster could show up. Maybe destroy the tent, attack my friends, give me something to get riled up about. I was craving a song of gushing blood and screams like a vague itch for something salty, and it was starting to make me question myself. While I didn’t have much of a conscience these days, I did still have needs. Just because I couldn’t feel guilt, doesn’t mean I didn’t want to feelsomething. Rage and pleasure were typically my go-to’s—I’m not sure if they’re separate things, really—and I wouldn’t mind someone enraging me right now.

I wondered if, like eating food and needing to sleep, these were things Dorothy and Tobias craved sometimes, too. The taste of violence was so satisfying, if didn’t at leastthinkabout it, they must not have ever tried it. I’d have to ask and get to know them better in the morning. I would hate to find us incompatible as companions.

I sighed. A crow fluttered down to me and I outstretched my hand to give him a perch. The silky black bird settled in on my forearm and began cleaning itself with its beak. I kept steady and stable while it fluttered its lovely dark feathers. “Anything fun to kill around here, little buddy?” I asked my winged company. The birds had long become my cohorts since my days in the pasture. I had a knack for befriending detestable creatures.

It lifted its head and shared with me a view into those little black marble-like eyes. Just enough so I could sense the answer of“nothing that provides any real sport.”

I rolled my head to the side, pressing my cheek to the bark of the tree, and I stared at the little tent. The material rustled just a touch.I hope Tobias is fucking her in there, but they’re probably just cuddling.Maybe even legitimately sleeping. He seemed a bit too meek to make a move on her anyway. A wolf in battle and a golden retriever in bed. Boring.

Boring boringboring.

I drifted my gaze to the empty horizon, when the crow launched itself from my arm and flew over to another perch just a few feet away. An odd perch. Not a tree. Not a rock. It almost looked like some sort of statue.

I shoved myself off the tree, and I paced over to this curious object. The closer I got, the more clear its shape came into view. It was a man, I thought. I couldn’t sense a heartbeat or breathing, but it definitely wasn’t just a simple sculpture. I got nearer still, and the little moonlight there was caught on a metallic glint.

Less boring.

I placed my hand on his face, and I felt along the contours. Smooth, cold, and hard. He was taller than me and intensely muscular. A metal mask was wrapped around the bottom half of his face like a muzzle on a vicious dog, and his hair was short and slicked back, revealing the irritation in his expression. Likely the last look he’d had before he was frozen in place by whatever magic put him here.

I dropped my palm to his neck, then I slid it along his shoulder.Suchmuscle. He was built like a god, truly. I bet he could murder someone with his bare fingers.Twist and break bones, dig through flesh…

My cock twitched at the thought, which only made me want to explore a touch more. With a wide palm, I took in the firm and thick muscles in his chest, then the defined abdominals that created hills and valleys in his smooth yet petrified skin. As my touch reached the waist of his pants, I smirked to myself.I wonder…

Over the clothing, I cupped him between his legs, then I lifted my eyes to his. “Plenty to play with here, tin soldier.”

His eyes shot open, and my gaze was met by shining silver. The expression in his brow remained rather perturbed. I couldn’t say if that was because his face was stuck like that, or if it was a genuine and current sentiment.

So of course I had to test it. I dipped my grip a little lower, sliding my fingertips beneath his balls. A flicker of irritation. I chuckled. “Let me guess,” I purred as I removed my hand from his substantial cock and returned it to his metal muzzled cheek, “you used to play with a wicked witch, and now you’re a cursed doll just like me. Blink once for yes. Twice if I’m somehow wrong.”

He said nothing, I presumed because his jaw had been frozen, but he did give me one single, satisfying blink. I was always right about these things.

“That’s what I thought. These witches are so predictable.” I shook my head in feigned disgust. Though I had fared better than most of their fuck dolls. I’d only been bled out and robbed of my soul, but I could still function like a normal person in most other ways. More or less. “I know you weren’t Hildy’s toy. So which one cursed you? Eloise in the North? Gwen in the West?” No response. I should have known. “Sasha in the South.”

There was the blink I was waiting for. “Sasha. You poor thing.” I chuckled. She had a… reputation. Not the least of which when it came to her penchant for disemboweling and dismembering her playthings. But for him to be alive-ish and standing, rather than being granted the mercy of a swift death, he had likely done something as offensive as I had. “You must have really fucked up to end up in this region. The so called good witches of the North and South never step into the Wicked West or the Evil East. So what exactly did she do to you, tin man?” I felt along his muzzle. There was no apparent way to remove it. It seemed to be adhered to his face. “Did she take your voice?”

The tin soldier’s gaze fell over my shoulder. I turned to see what he was so fixated on.

But a few feet away, there on the forest floor, buried in the leaves of a small fern, was a glowing bottle. It would have been impossible to see from any other angle but his. If I were to guess, it was his chance and salvation, and Sasha placed it there so he could forever see hope so close yet so far. Devious. Almost delightful. I might have even called her brilliantly evil if not for the fact that I would never side with one of Oz’s witches.

So instead, I’d call her a cruel bitch and help out.

I fished what appeared to be a small satchel with a bottle of lotion from the brush, and I returned to my little statue. His silver eyes reflected relief as I pumped some lotion into my hands and started to rub his shoulders. His body softened under this moisturizing massage, and he physically relaxed into my touch. Such a tough, strong man, yet he was completely at my mercy.

Hmmm, I should be abusing this more.

I really should have been, but I was admittedly enjoying this softening of his body more than I should. I ran lotioned hands down his biceps, and I felt his firm muscles flex in my grip. I made it down to his elbows, and his heavy forearms dropped limply at his side as soon as I freed his flesh. I gave him a wry smile before shifting my efforts to his chest, his abs, his… neck. I was sweet enough to come up to his face and free his muscles so he could share his expressions with me, and when that brow softened, I only then made my way to his hands. Once the entirety of his upper body was free, I presented him with the bottle of remaining lotion.

“I would happily finish the job for you, but if I keep rubbing you like this, you might learn some things about yourself you’re not quite comfortable with.” I smirked. A flush in his cheeks implied he might already be comfortable with such a thing, but he took the suggestion and went to work freeing the lower half of his body.

He slipped his lathered hands into his pants, and he rubbed on his thigh muscles with noticeable pressure, working thick quads until they flexed and relaxed. He seemed to hesitate as he moved back up to his hips, and as he rounded his body to squeeze his glutes. Paralyzed or not, it would be inaccurate to describe any of the areas he rubbed as trulysoftening. The Southern Witch had some preferences, indeed.

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