The Wizard of Fuzz Ch. 01byslyc_willie©
(Author's Note: The Wizard of Oz is a fixture of western culture. A story of innocence, strength and hope, of good family values and perseverance against all odds. But it also makes for the basis of a damn good fantasy. Which is what this tale is all about. This is the story of a sweet young country girl -- of legal age, of course -- who gets swept up in an epic journey to . . . well . . . Read on, is all I can say)
Prologue: An Innocent but Naughty Kansas Country Girl
Dotti writhed and moaned upon her bed, one hand pressed deeply between her thighs as the other pinched and pulled at thick, swollen pink nipples. Even with the windows open, sweet and earthy aromas of spring wafting in on a gentle breeze, the feminine perfume emanating from her sex was palpable. Slender fingers glistened with the sweet, oily fluid that oozed from between plump pink lips. Dotti twitched with aftershocks as she lazily brought her hand to her face. Soft moans escaped her lush lips as she licked her own essence off her fingers.
Suddenly, her eyes flashed open in alarm. "Oh!" she exclaimed aloud, though she was alone in her bedroom. "I'm going to be late!"
She jumped up from bed, her firm round breasts jiggling, and reached for the blue and white checkered skirt hanging over the chair before her vanity. The white blouse was next, tied hastily beneath her breasts rather than tucked in, exposing her taut, trim belly. She pulled on the knee-length white stockings and polished black shoes, touched up her makeup and secured her long black hair in pig tails.
Dotti made a kissing motion with her soft pink lips as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Perfect," she said, then darted from her room.
"Mom! Dad! I'm going!" she called as she raced down the stairs in the family home. Her shoes clacked upon the wooden boards.
"Have fun, dear," her mother responded from the kitchen.
"Be careful, honey," her father said from his recliner, the day's paper held up before his nose.
Dotti rolled her eyes as she closed the door behind her and headed down the walk to her Mustang. They never change, she thought. Day in, day out, always the same boring stuff. Work, church, work, church. I don't wanna be like that. I want . . . adventure!
Grinning with anticipation, Dotti jumped behind the wheel of her classic 'Stang and jerked the key in the ignition. This is gonna be a fun party, she thought to herself.
Dotti soured as she drove back home the following morning. The party had been a disaster. As always, Tina Masters and her cheerleader friends had commanded all the attention in their tight mini-skirts and transparent tops, and every boy had lusted after them. Frustrated at playing second . . . third . . . fourth fiddle, Dotti had found companionship with a bottle of vodka and spent most of the party listening to Kerri Baines' lamentations on how selfish and stupid boys were.
I've had it with these stupid parties, she thought depressingly. Fifty people drinking, but only ten people actually hook up. Damn it! When am I ever gonna have some real fun?
Dotti became conscious of a needy ache between her lean thighs. She was many miles from home, from the cozy shelter of her bedroom, where she acted out unrealized fantasies with the help of toys. Although beyond the age of eighteen, Dotti had little experience in the realm of carnal relations . . . though she dreamed of it constantly.
I can't stand it, she thought, her hand wandering across the seat beside her to her purse. A little fumbling with the clasp, then searching within the small bag, and she found what she was looking for.
The girl smiled as she held up the polished silver ball. Stenciled in tiny script upon the surface were the words, "TOTO. Totally Orgasmic Tickling Orb."
With a grin, keeping her eyes on the dusty Kansas road that would take her home, Dotti spread her legs and fluttered up the short hem of her loose skirt. She was glad to have 'forgotten' her panties the night before, for that meant one less obstacle to her pleasure. Holding the orb in the palm of her hand, Dotti touched her pussy, finding the soft pink lips slick already.
Concentrating both upon driving and her own self-gratification, Dotti rubbed the smooth, cool sphere along her lips, then against her clitoris as it swelled. Biting her lip against a needy moan, she pushed the object against the entrance of her tunnel, feeling the muscles spread and suck it in. She sighed as her young pussy wrapped snuggly around the object, then gasped as it began vibrating.
Both hands slapped to the wheel. Her eyes became heady with pleasure as TOTO went to work. It throbbed, pulsed, shook and buzzed inside her, making Dotti's thighs twitch. Her nipples hardened incredibly; her face and neck became flushed with arousal. Beads of perspiration formed on her upper lip and in the revealed cleavage of her breasts.
"Oh," she moaned softly, directing the Mustang into town. "Mmm . . . ."
Suddenly, the sex toy buried in her pussy hit just the right spot, triggering a convulsive orgasm that had the girl shaking in her seat. She gasped and cried out in pleasure, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. Her entire body trembled almost violently as the spasms continued for many long, sweet moments.
At last, forgetting where she was, Dotti sagged in the driver's seat, smiling and blushing from her orgasm. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
"Oh, shit!" she exclaimed, bolting upright in her seat. She found herself staring at the back of a gleaming black Mercedes, which was obviously too close to her own car. So close, in fact, that the rear bumper of the late-model vehicle was crumpled against the front of Dotti's venerable Mustang, the trunk lid dented and popped open. Hanging from the lid was the personalized license plate of the car, which read: "Witch."
Oh, no, thought Dotti with dread, even as she saw the driver's-side door of the Mercedes pop open. With fearful eyes, the young raven-haired girl watched as a tall, imposing woman, clad in a stately pantsuit, stepped from the vehicle before her. The woman's long, pale hair was secured in a severe bun atop her head, revealing the harsh, angular face beneath.
Mrs. Gulp, thought Dotti nervously, swallowing thickly. Oh, no . . . of all the people to run into . . . .
An angry and patronizing look in her eyes, Mrs. Gulp glared through Dotti's windshield at the girl, waiting impatiently. Dotti quickly disengaged her seatbelt and pushed open the door, stepping out.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the girl began. "Um . . . th-there was this little dog, a-and it ran across the road—"
"I didn't see any damn dog," spat Mrs. Gulp. Her eyes narrowed with disapproval as she looked the young woman over. "You're that Gale brat. Where are you going on a Sunday morning, dressed like a tramp? You should be in church!"
Dotti bristled slightly at Mrs. Gulp's words, but her fear was overriding. "I . . . I was just going home, to get dressed for church," she said, her wide blue eyes quivering. "I swear!"
At that moment, the shiny, slick silver orb that had been buried within Dotti's pussy promptly fell out, bouncing on the ground and rolling to a stop at Mrs. Gulp's feet. The matron glanced down, her lips curling with a sneer of distaste as she beheld the object. With a handkerchief, she stooped and picked up the device.
"I-I can explain," began Dotti.
Mrs. Gulp chuckled darkly. "Oh, I am certain you can," she said. She closed her fist around the TOTO and glared at the girl. "Masturbation is a sin," she declared. "And even more so with such a . . . disgusting device."
"Mrs. Gulp, please!" cried Dotti. "It was just an accident!"
"One you can explain to your parents," decried the older woman haughtily as she backed toward her open car door. "Naughty girls such as you should be punished!"
Oh, no! thought Dotti as Mrs. Gulp closed the door behind her and drove away, the trunk of her Mercedes bouncing open in her wake.
Desperately, Dotti clamored back inside her car and floored the accelerator, determined to get home before Mrs. Gulp beat her there.
She was too late, of course. Dotti felt her heart sink as she pulled up the Mustang along the curb before her house, seeing Mrs. Gulp's dented Mercedes in the driveway. The Deacon's wife was already inside, Dotti knew, and laying it on thick for her bible-thumping parents' benefit.
Head hanging low, Dotti stepped through the door, hearing Mrs. Gulp's shrill voice:
". . . the evils of youngsters know no bounds!" the woman was shrieking, grasping the cloth-wrapped silver ball in her hand as she faced Dotti's parents in the living room. "Self-gratification! Self-pleasure! Self-righteousness! Your daughter is on the path to wickedness, I tell you! Why, I don't doubt that she was indulging in the corruptions of Satan, namely marijuana, and alcohol!"
Dotti's parents caught sight of their daughter in the doorway as the girl meekly shuffled forward, head bowed in shame.
"Is this true?" asked Mother.
"I . . . Mom, I—"
"Of course it is true!" declared Mrs. Gulp, striding toward Dotti quickly. In a swift move that surprised all, the older woman gripped the hem of Dotti's skirt and jerked it up past her waist. Dotti gasped in humiliation as her naked sex was revealed.
"No panties! Do you need more proof?" cried Mrs. Gale. Her eyes blazed as she looked upon Dotti. "I will not abide the existence of harlots in this town!"
Dotti let out an anguished cry and darted away, running up the stairs to her room, face buried in her hands. She slammed the bedroom door shut behind her and leapt upon the bed, curling up in a ball. For hours, she wept uncontrollably.
Dotti did not have lunch, nor dinner with her parents that day. She remained in her bed and refused to answer the poundings of her father's fists upon the locked door to her room. Eventually, a strange sort of calm quietness fell upon the house. Dotti's parents gave up for the night in trying to lure her out for a Bible-thumping.
Finally, Dotti sat up in bed, wiped her eyes. There were no lights on within the house, and the open windows carried a strong breeze and the sharp aroma of ozone. Dotti had already made up her mind within the tortured dreams she had experienced during her fitful slumber. Not thinking about her actions, she grabbed a small suitcase from the closet and began packing.
A few minutes later, Dotti crawled out through her window, and onto the roof of the garage. She jumped to the ground with a grunt of effort and dashed to her car. There was almost no damage from her collision with Mrs. Gulp's car -- evidence of the strength of a classic such as hers -- and the engine rumbled contentedly to life.
I've got a hundred and thirteen bucks, Dotti thought as she backed the car out of the driveway. She was oblivious to the strong winds whipping around her car. Enough to get me through the next few days at Kerri's. I know I can stay there, at least for a while . . . until mom and dad calm down.
She threw the car into gear and pressed her foot to the accelerator. Tires skidded on damp roads for a moment before the old Mustang bore Dotti away.
Part One: The Yellow Prick Road, and All That Happens Upon It . . . .
The radio was filled with static, so Dotti popped a Pink Floyd CD into the undermounted player on her dash. She sang along to the music, enjoying the rich, electrical smell of the wind flying through her window. So distracted she was that she did not notice the dark, swirling column of air as it crossed the road just before her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, feeling the car rattle and shake. Instead of rolling forward, the Mustang began skidding across cracked and battered pavement. Dotti's hands fought with the wheel, but control of the vehicle was beyond her.
"Oh! My! God!" she exclaimed in fearful wonderment, seeing the twisting funnel just outside her car. In the next moment, Dotti and her vehicle were lifted up high into the air, spinning round and round and drawn closer to the heart of the spinning vertical tunnel.
And then, about her, came shapes and figures she recognized. Mr. Rivers' ice cream stand, with waffle clones and sugary toppings flying about. Then Mr. Rivers himself, wild-eyed and fearful, flailing his arms and legs. A neighborhood dog, tiny and mangy, well-known for its annoying barking at all hours of the night. Then a dark Mercedes, doors flung open as it fell away . . . and the lanky form of Mrs. Gulp, spinning this way and that, her matronly dress ripped from her to reveal a body-hugging suit of dark black leather that both barely covered and accentuated her feminine assets.
Dotti stared, transfixed, as Mrs. Gulp righted herself, holding a long black device in her hand that resembled . . . oh, my, thought Dotti . . . it looks like . . . an enormous penis!
Mrs. Gulp cackled at the girl and shot off into the heart of the swirling twister, gripping the fake, massive black phallus which she held like a wand . . . .
"See you soon, my pretty!"
The shrill, grating voice of Mrs. Gulp was the last thing Dotti heard before the spinning of the car and the whirling winds battered her into unconsciousness.
"Ohh . . . ."
Dotti groaned as she came awake, forcing her tired eyes open. It took her a moment to recognize the interior of her car. However, the moment she did, she shot up, instantly awake. She remembered the twister, and all she had seen within it.
Oh, my gosh, I'm alive! I'm . . . .
Her thoughts trailed off as she looked out through cracked windows. There were tiny homes, none taller than she, with miniature doors that seemed more for dogs and cats than people. And all about were diminutive figures, perfectly proportioned to their height, looking upon Dotti and her ruined vehicle with wonder and interest.
Cautiously, Dotti pushed open the door and stepped out. She gasped as she saw the lower body of a woman, from the waist down, jutting out from beneath her car. The only garment upon the body was a pair of brilliant, ruby-colored panties that barely covered the woman's sex.
The short figures gathered around her as she emerged. There were dozens upon dozens of them, Dotti realized, as she looked about in befuddled wonder. They kept their distance, yet gave her no chance to run. Their round, youthful faces sported wide, inquisitive eyes and they whispered excitedly under their breath.
"Who are you?" she asked. "Where am I?"
A single figure stepped forth. He stood, near as Dotti could figure, about three and a half feet tall, and was well-built for his height. He had sharp, chiseled figures and short blonde hair. His gem-like eyes looked Dotti over.
"We are the Scrumpkins," he said in a childlike voice. Suddenly, he grinned and spread his arms wide. "And this is Scrumpingland. And you—" he stooped slightly and jabbed his finger toward Dotti. "—you killed the Dom of the East!"
"The what?" asked Dotti, befuddled.
The others -- none more tall than the one who had spoke, and apparently equally male and female -- began dancing and singing.
"The terrible Dom of the East
She was the bitchiest beast
Not the nicest in the least, not in the least, not in the least
She wouldn't let us feast
'less we satisfied her beast
And that was the terrible, terrible, terrible
Terrible Dom of the East!"
Dotti frowned, watching all the little figures before her as they cavorted about. Both little men and little women wore only simple tunics, belted about the waist, and as they jumped and moved and spun and dipped, it became obvious to Dotti that the 'Scrumpkins' wore nothing else. The girl blushed at the casual way in which the privates of these little people were revealed.
"But now the Dom is dead
smacked upside the head!
Oh yes, the Dom is dead
She was crushed inside her shed!
Oh, it took such a mighty hand
To crush the Dom in Scrumpingland
Now we should strike up the band
Three cheers for all in Scrumpingland!"
"I don't understand!" Dotti cried at last, bringing a halt to the dancing and singing. "What's going on?"
Wiggler approached her again, smiling confidently. "You are in Fuzz, and this is Scrumpingland," he said again.
Dotti shook her head. "I get that," she said. "But how did I get here?"
The blonde Scrumpkin grinned and gestured to Dotti's Mustang, laying in the midst of what seemed to be some sort of market square. The tires were all blown out. "You fell from the sky," he said. "And right on top of the Dom of the East."
"The Dom of the East," mused Dotti with worry evident on her face. "I didn't mean to!"
Wiggler shuddered. "Terrible woman," he said. "Her wants were . . . insatiable, and . . . perverse."
"'Insatiable?'" queried Dotti. "'Perverse?'"
"Yes," said the Scrumpkin, taking Dotti's hand and leading the stupefied girl toward a small garden. The numerous other Scrumpkins followed, many grinning and glowing with excitement.
"The Dom of the East came to us, many years ago. We welcomed her, at first. She had so many answers for us, and gave us what we needed."
Dotti worried slightly, more perturbed and confused than anything else, as she was eased onto her back upon a soft mat of green. A crowd of barely-clad little people moved close. Many fluttered their hands beneath their tunics, just below the belt.
"Wh-what did she give you?" Dotti asked.
Wiggler smiled, pushing up Dotti's skirt, revealing her nakedness beneath. "She gave us -- oh!"
Dotti sat up in alarm, reading the expression on the blonde Scrumpkin's face. "What's wrong?"
His wide eyes shot to hers. "You don't have any fuzz," he said. His eyes narrowed. "Are you old enough?"
Dotti scoffed in insult. "I'm eighteen!" she declared. She slapped down her skirt, her eyes darting around wildly as she spoke. "So I don't have any fuzz! I never have! I'm not ashamed of it!"
The other Scrumpkins crowded about, all looking between Dotti's legs at the hairless mound and lips revealed there. Murmurs spread amongst them.
"It's okay," assured Wiggler, keeping Dotti's thighs apart and moving between them. "The Wizard can help you with that."
Dotti shook her head in consternation. "The Wizard?"
Wiggler grinned as he lowered his head, bringing his face close to her hairless pussy. "Yes. The Wizard of Fuzz."
"Oh . . . ." Dotti trailed off as she watched the blonde-haired Scrumpkin open his mouth and slip out his tongue. Just as it was about to touch her swollen pink labia, Dotti pushed the little man's head away.
"What are you doing?"
Wiggler fought back a groan of frustration and smiled. "Getting you ready to scrump," he said.
Wiggler sighed heavily and sat up. He curled the index finger of his left hand into the thumb, forming a hole, then pushed the index finger of his other hand back and forth through the hole. "Scrump," he said. "Got it?"
Dotti's eyes opened wide in understanding. "Oh!"
Wiggler grinned, and slowly lowered his head between Dotti's spread legs once more. "Yes," he said. "'Oh.' You'll be saying that a lot, I think."
"W-will I . . .?" Dotti murmured, then sighed and lay back, moaning in passion as Wiggler pressed his mouth to her pussy. With supreme enjoyment, he licked, sucked, and pulled, nibbled upon the lips and folds of the girl's sex, smacking his lips, licking with gusto. His fingers spread her open, allowing his surprisingly long tongue to delve deep within the girl.