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From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com>
Subject: Dorothy Does Oz (Part 1) [REPOST]
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Here's the first part of ten...
Comments are greatly appreciated.
However, I would appreciate it if you would respect my rights as
author, and not repost this story in any Usenet group without my
permission.
Shelby (stbush@iglou.com)
......................................................................
DOROTHY DOES OZ: Part One "We're Off to Squeeze the Wizard"
......................................................................
[This part of the story is in Sepiatone. Please adjust your monitor
accordingly.]
The girl stood in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the window.
She admired her naked, one-day-short-of-eighteen-year-old body in the
full length mirror. She reached up and touched her cone-shaped
breasts. The small, but very sensitive nipples popped up under her
fingertips, and she smiled at herself.
Her left hand moved down her body, over her flat stomach and navel, to
the patch of brown fur below. She ruffled the pubic hair with her
fingers, barely touching the skin beneath.
She turned, admiring the image of herself in the mirror, until she
heard voices coming through the open window.She stepped closer to the
sill; not far enough for her to be seen, but far enough to look out.
The three hired hands were walking up toward the spigot in the back
yard. They turned on the hose, and started washing off some of the
Kansas dirt from their hands and arms.
"Looks like a storm's movin' in," the tall one remarked.
The short one nodded. "Sky's awful dark toward the west."
The fat one chimed in. "Hope it don't rain tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? What's tomorrow?" the tall one asked.
"Dorothy's birthday," the fat one replied. "What're you guys getting
her for her birthday?"
"I got her birthday present right here," the short one grinned,
grabbing at his crotch.
"What makes you think she wants such a little gift?" laughed the tall
one.
"What makes you think it's so small?" the short one grinned back at
him. "Besides. I know that's what she really wants. You've seen her
walkin' around here in her short shorts and tube tops."
"Yeah!" the fat one nodded.
"Ever since she got hair on her thing," the short one continued,
"she's been wantin' to use it bad. And now she's eighteen. No more
jailbait."
Dorothy, standing in her room above them, smiled.
"Mebbe we all ought to give'r what she's been askin' for," the tall
one said.
They all laughed, and turned to face west as a rumble of thunder
sounded.
"Looks like a hard'un," the short one said. "We'd better get the
tractor in."
They dashed off. Dorothy turned away from the window and lay back on
her bed. She smiled to herself, thinking about the treat the guys were
considering giving her for her birthday.As she thought about it, one
hand drifted down to her lower lips. Her fingers traced the contours
of her slit, feeling it open, blossoming. Her clit emerged, hot,
hungry, demanding. She stroked it slowly, feeling a trickle of
moisture begin to leak from her cunt.
"Mmmm," she moaned, as she thought, "Oh, for a tongue to stroke me..."
Then miraculously, there was a tongue. Warm, wet and willing.
She slid her fingers away as the tongue took over, rolling her clit
like a marble in the mud.
"Oh, yes!" she cried, softly. "Oh yes... yesss... good boy... good
Toto..."
The small, black dog looked up from her crotch briefly at his name,
then went back to his work.
Dorothy lay back, her fingers on her breasts, pinching her tender
nipples.
"Oh, yes..."
A warm feeling spread from her groin, and tightened under her
breastbone. She arched her back as the contractions began, her legs
squeezing together as the dog scrambled away from her. She held her
breath until the contractions slowed, then slowly released the air.
She curled up on the bed. Toto climbed up and lay beside her, as she
dozed off into a light sleep.
.................................
"DOROTHY!"
The male voice's shout roused her from her slumber. Dorothy scrambled
off the bed and threw on the first clothes she could find; a pair of
cut-off blue jeans and a tee-shirt.
She looked around for Toto, but the little dog had disappeared.
She ran down the hall and down the stairs to the yard.
"Yes, Uncle?"
"Where's that little black beast of yours?" the angry-looking man
asked.
"What's he done now?" Dorothy whined.
"It's the chickens again. That damned mutt of yours had better stop
chasing my chickens around the coop, or I swear, I'll fry his ass for
dinner."
Dorothy nodded. She turned away from her uncle so he couldn't see her
sly smile. "Toto!" she shouted. "Toto! Come here, boy!"
......................................
The rap at the front door was sharp, insistent. Emily opened the door
cautiously.
The woman at the door was dressed all in black; long skirts,
high-necked, long-sleeved blouse. Emily wondered how she could bear
to wear such garb in the heat of summer. The woman peered through the
door opening at Emily. "Where is your niece, Emily?" she asked, her
voice a grating squeak.
"She's out back, I believe. Why?"
"It's that dog of hers again," the elder lady groaned.
Emily nodded. "Won't you come in?" She opened the door wider, and the
black-clad woman entered.
"Please have a seat," Emily said, false-cheerfully. "I'll find
Dorothy for you."
Emily quickly left the room. "That mutt..." she muttered.
......................................
Dorothy hesitated before entering the room. She held her dog in her
arms, stroking his head.
Finally steeling herself, she straightened her back and marched in to
face the grim-faced woman.
The woman's face darkened as she saw Dorothy enter the room.
"That dog," she shrieked, "is a meanace! He keeps chasing my
chickens!"
"Now, now," Emily chided. "I don't believe he means any harm. He's a
very gentle dog."
"Gentle, hell," the woman growled. "You must not know what he does
when he catches them."
Emily looked blank. The woman elaborated.
"He buggers them. Screws them up the arse."
Emily feigned shock. She fanned herself with her hand. "Oh, my," she
whispered, and collapsed into a chair.
Dorothy set the dog down on the floor. Toto sat obediently at her
feet.
"Something has got to be done about that dog," the woman said,
threateningly. "I have an order here from the Sheriff. You have to
turn the dog over to me to be destroyed."
"Destroyed? For fucking a few chickens?"
"Yes!" the woman exclaimed. "Exactly."
"We can't fight the order," Emily nodded. "Give her the dog,
Dorothy."
Dorothy looked down. Toto had slipped away. She looked around the
room.
She saw a black furry tail behind the skirts of the seated, grim-faced
woman. "Oh, no," she thought.
There was a bulge under the woman's skirt that appeared suddenly
between her legs; the woman jumped up. Toto fell out from under her
skirt as the woman jumped up to stand on her chair.
"That beast licked me!" she shouted. "He licked my... my... "
"Your what?" Dorothy asked, coyly hiding a smile behind her hands.
"Never mind," the woman snapped. She pointed at a small cage. You
put that mutt in there, and hurry up about it.
Dorothy snatched up Toto; she whispered in his ear, "Maneuver X-14."
The dog looked up into her face. He seemed to grin.
She put him into the cage. The woman snatched up the cage and headed
out the door.
"Good riddance," Emily said.
............................
The storms were closer. Dorothy looked out her window down the road,
watching for Toto to come running back. A distant rumble of thunder
brought her attention back to the threatening sky.
"Aunt Em," she called out the window. "Have you checked the Weather
Channel?"
The elder woman looked up at Dorothy and shook her head. She turned
back to feeding the chickens.
Dorothy went downstairs, picked up the remote control and clicked on
the television. She flicked through the channels when she heard
Angela Lansbury say, "This is a very special showing..."
Curiosity overcame her, and she paused to see what was so special.
Angela stood in front of a picture of a picture of a girl in a gingham
pinafore holding a small black dog. "And now," Angela continued, "we
present 'The Wizard of Oz'."
"Shit," Dorothy muttered. "Not that thing again..." She clicked the
remote, hunting for the Weather Channel.
..............................
Dorothy stepped out of the house and walked toward the barnyard. Her
aunt's skirts blew around her legs as she carried a bucket of grain
for the horses.
"So, what's the weather word?" Emily asked.
"There's a tornado watch out, but nothing more," Dorothy replied. She
took the bucket from her aunt's hand, and stepped over to the barn.
The three hired hands were inside the barn, peering out at the
approaching storm clouds. "Looks like a big storm," the fat one
shouted over at Dorothy.
"Tornado watch out," Dorothy shouted back.
"That's twister weather fer sure," the tall one pointed out at the
clouds.
Dorothy poured the grain into the horses feed bins, and headed back to
the house.
As she approached the door, she looked out at the road again. A small
black dot moved along the road.
Dorothy smiled. She headed on into the house, and went upstairs to
her room. She held her door open as she heard the pet door open and
shut, and Toto dashed through her door, and jumped up on the bed.
Dorothy closed the door and twisted the privacy lock. She turned back
to the dog, panting on the bed.
"Good boy," she muttered. "Now, you better lay low for a while,
Buster."
The dog licked his chops and whined.
Dorothy smiled and nodded. "Good idea." She peeled off her shorts
and pulled the tee-shirt over her head. She climbed onto the bed
naked.
The dog immediately dove for her crotch. Dorothy lay back, her knees
high and wide, letting the dog apply his tongue to her sensitive clit.
"Good dog," she moaned. "Good boy."
.......................................
The tall hired hand pointed. "See that? Did I tell you?"
The others followed his gaze. A dark funnel was dropping from the
cloud.
"It's a twister! Get everyone into the storm cellar!"
They ran toward the doors to the shelter, set at a steep angle into
the ground. The tall hand pulled the door open. Dorothy's uncle
carried a battery-powered lantern down the stairs. He was followed by
the other two hired hands.
Emily hesitated at the door. "Where's Dorothy?" she yelled.
"I think she's in the house," the tall man shouted. "I'll find her."
He started toward the house, but Emily grabbed his arm and pointed.
The twister was almost upon them.
"Too late!" she shouted, and pulled him into the shelter door. The
wind whipped the cellar door closed behind them. An old wagon, that
had been picked up at the farm down the road, fell across the doorway.
.............................................
Her orgasm was powerful; one of the most powerful she had ever
experienced. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Dorothy knew she was
hyperventilating, but she didn't care. Her body convulsed in
pleasure.
She pushed the little dog aside, and curled up in a fetal position on
the bed. It felt like the whole house was shaking....
The house WAS shaking!
It sounded like a freight train was right outside the window. A gust
of fierce wind blew through the room.
Dorothy sat up in bed watching the window act like a drain. Loose
pieces of paper flew through the air and out the window.
Her closet door flew open. The air was thick with clothing, whipping
around her then flying out the window.
The house gave a shudder. There was a wrenching sound, then suddenly,
silence. Dorothy's stomach gave a lurch, much as it did when she rode
in the elevator in Wichita.
The floor felt solid when she stepped out of the bed, but there was a
movement -- almost like being in a boat -- or a train.
She lurched toward the window and looked out... and screamed. She
was inside the tornado, and she couldn't see the ground!
.....................................................................
to be continued!
Next time, "Ding! Dong! The Bitch is Dead!"
...................................................................