Bondage in Oz

Part One

The scent of ripening corn filled the afternoon air as storm clouds loomed on the far horizon. A soft breeze was blowing, rustling the soft, white cotton curtains as the three men quietly stood at the window, staring intently into the bedroom. Dressed in blue jeans and tee shirts, each sporting a different style of hat, they seemed intensely focused on something inside the house. The tallest of the three men reached down and adjusted himself beneath the denim, an obvious erection clearly making him uncomfortable. 

Inside the room, a red-haired girl lay on a queen sized bed, eyes half closed as her fingers moved in lazy circles across her bared and luscious skin. A low moan came from parted lips and her back arched, the pale, white curves of her body writhing in self created ecstasy. She seemed unaware of her audience, lost in her own little world, legs parted with her toes just barely grazing the corners of the footboard. Her fingers moved from the wet, swollen nub of sweet flesh at the cleft of her slit to grasp a thick, black, cucumber-sized phallus. She lifted it up, only to press the tapered point at her sex, the wet folds waiting patiently for another chance to feel the solid rubber torpedo driving deep into her warm, tight depths. Outside she heard the voice of her aunt, chastising the farmhands, Mike, Nick, and Alex.

“You there, what are you three doing? You’re supposed to be slopping the pigs!” Aunt Ellen said harshly. “Why are you hanging around Breanne’s window?” There were some uncomfortable coughs, but the girl on the bed ignored them, totally enraptured with the sensation building inside her. Besides, it wouldn’t have been the first time any of them had seen her naked. It was a definite turn on. There came a sound of strangled frustration.

“Good Lord!” Auntie Ellen declared from the open window. “Well that certainly explains why the farmhands aren’t getting a damn thing done!” The old woman put her hands on the sill and practically stuck her head into the girl’s bedroom. “For God’s sake, Breanne, it’s the third time today! Isn’t your cunt satisfied by now?” Auntie Ellen asked in frustration, looking down at the teenager fucking herself.

Breanne groaned loudly as she slid the dildo, a fantastic phallus called “the torpedo,” into her waiting hole. Aunt Ellen watched quietly for a moment, ogling the girl as the massive rubber plug dipped in and out of Breanne’s well. With a sigh of disappointment, Aunt Ellen pulled her head out of the window and looked up at the sky. “Weather’s turning,” she said sternly, then looked back at her naked niece. “Did you hear me? There’s a kicker of a storm coming. If you aren’t going to help, at least don’t hinder. The hands can’t do their jobs with you exposing yourself in such a manner, young lady!” Auntie Ellen grabbed the curtains and yanked them closed. Breanne was too deep into the pleasure to do more than take note of her aunt’s caustic voice, shouting more orders. The gentle, rhythmic plunging of the massive dildo distracted her completely.

“No! Get the barn doors closed! Can’t you see there’s a storm coming? Look there, off to the west you idiot!”

As Breanne’s toes began to curl, the wind shifted and the curtains once more moved. Except this time they billowed and a forceful wind filled the girl’s room. Still, she paid it no mind, so intense was the building pressure between her legs. She could feel her orgasm building.

“Oh yes!” Breanne gasped, her back arching with acute pleasure.

“Oh God! A twister!” Auntie Ellen’s voice came, thin and shrill over the sound of the storm. “Get to shelter! All of you!” Lightning flashed and a rolling wave of thunder rolled over the farm.

Breanne cried out, not in fear or because of the storm, but because she’d finally achieved the goal she’d been working on for over an hour. Her body tensed and there was a roaring in her ears. The bed seemed to twist and a cold, wet wind brushed its hand across her shuddering, bare body. But that didn’t matter to the girl quivering in orgasmic ecstasy. She thought she could feel the earth itself move as she exploded and there was a sensation of flying as she arched her back, driving the massive “Torpedo” dildo deep into her sweet slit. A maelstrom of sensation drove her onward as she bucked and thrashed on the bed, eyes closed in euphoria, gasping and then finally screaming as she twitched and shuddered. Then, she let out a sigh of satisfaction so intense, that she didn’t realize that the roaring, flying and shaking sensations hadn't abated. With shock she started to sit up. The sky outside the window was black and with startled eyes, she realized that the roaring she’d heard wasn’t her orgasm, but an actual tornado. The entire house shuddered and with sudden fright she realized that her home was now flying through the air.



Terrified, and still with the dildo buried deep inside her, she held onto the headboard. Her little blue dress, which had been draped over the headboard, suddenly took to the air. Breanne barely managed to catch hold and the material ripped as the wind tried to tear it from her fingers. Then the sound of wood crackling filled her ears. Breanne screamed as one whole wall of her bedroom disappeared, pulled away and smashed in the winds of the violent storm. A gale filled her little room and she flung herself down upon the bed, her voice lost in the howl of the twister. Debris rained down on her and she pulled the torn dress against her skin. The bedclothes were suddenly gone, stolen by the storm, and she clung to the mattress. Despite the violent ride, Breanne managed to hold on and remain on the bed until the house returned to terra firma with a bone jarring crash. The dildo inside her drove painfully deep, right into her cervix and she let out a groan, though admittedly had she been in the right mood, the painful thrust would have had dramatic potential and led to more interesting, sexual things.

Slowly Breanne looked up. Bright sunlight, spotted with damp, seemed to sparkle through the broken frame of the window. One curtain still hung in place, but the other was gone, torn away by the storm. She reached down between her legs and pulled the dildo from her damp slit and wiped it on the now ruined mattress. A quick assessment of her situation proved to be dire; her shoes and socks were gone, as was her dresser where she might have found more clothes. Her panties were nowhere to be found and the only garment she had left was a shredded dress, so horribly torn that she might as well go naked. She wrapped the sundress around her body, finding most of the buttons missing and broad swaths of exposed skin where the material had been torn. She managed to get some bits around her bosom, though the state of her attire would have scandalized her Aunt Ellen. She was also bare foot, a condition that caused her a great deal of concern as she eyed the shattered remains of her home. Wood splinters were everywhere. She heard the house creak though and with a fearful glance, clutched her ripped and holey dress to her body and tiptoed through the wreckage.

Just as she cleared the debris, the house collapsed, a cloud of dry, south Texas dust rushing out. She coughed, backing away, feeling bits of wood under her bare feet. But then she tripped, falling backward. By the time she was able to right herself, the air had cleared and she looked down at the item she’d tripped over. To her astonishment, a pair of acrylic, sapphire blue, high heeled shoes lay near her feet. They looked to be near to her size, though the shoes appeared more like something a stripper would wear. The soles were four inches thick and the spiked heel itself was obscene. Still, it was better than picking slivers out of her soles. She sat down on a crumpled bit of roof, buckled on the shoes, and climbed to her feet.

For a moment she wobbled, but the natural, slutty movement of a woman on stilettoes came naturally to her and in short order she was moving with a lewd, hip swinging swish. No longer worried about getting a splinter in her heel, she surveyed the damage and was heartbroken to see her home shattered. She turned around in a circle, for the first time caring more about her surroundings than her tornado destroyed home.

Her house had come down in some sort of clearing. There was a spiral of silver brick which ended in a circle some ten feet in circumference. The inside appeared to be soft grass, cut short. Curiously, she stepped onto the brick path and followed the spiral around through two near circles until she stepped onto the silver lined circle. The grass beckoned and she found herself suddenly wanting to lie down on it.

She sank down onto the grass in a sudden fit of despair. She had no idea where she was. Worse, she didn’t have much in the way of belongings; a nine inch long, black rubber dildo, a shredded dress that left her indecently exposed, and a pair of fuck me shoes she could barely walk in. She tapped the dildo against her knee and then laid back, staring up at the clouds. How could she have gotten into a worse position? Tears filled her eyes and she closed them.

For several long minutes she cried silently. But then she suddenly felt as if she were being watched. She opened her eyes and the face that loomed over hers made her cry out in surprise.

"AHHHHH!” The little man shouted back, shocked. He jumped backward and Breanne sat up, putting a hand to her chest to cover her only barely concealed breast. The man was a midget! That’s when Breanne noticed that he wasn’t alone. At least a dozen of the little men were standing around her, each staring with rapt attention.

But what really captured Breanne’s attention, was the fact that all of them were dressed in what amounted to blue leather harnesses. Every wrist and ankle sported very masculine looking cuffs, but what really captured her attention, was that each little man’s genitals were completely exposed. She blushed furiously, presuming that the bevy of hard-ons each midget man sported was likely due to her presence, especially with the state of her clothing, but what shocked her was the fact that each granite-like penis was of normal size, twice as big as the men wielding them. Even more obnoxious were their testicles. Each was swollen and blue.

Then she noticed that several of them held weapons. One carried a thin birch rod, another a whip of some sort, another a blue, leather strap. The midget man who had leaned over her held a short leather paddle and he wiggled it at her.

"Are you a dominatrix or a submissive?” He asked breathlessly, as if he were prepared to run.

Breanne blinked as she sat up. “I’m sorry… a what?”

The little men all looked at each other in disbelief, as if her ignorance was unusual. “A dominatrix or a submissive?” The first midget demanded.

Breanne, unfamiliar with the terms, gave them a blank look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what those are,” she said.

For a moment, the little man glared at her, then at her shoes, then at her again. It was very confusing for Breanne. But then the man thumped his chest. “I’m Zach, and we’re Munchkins,” he said, pointing at the group. The other man grinned and waved at Breanne, who felt a lot better. She gave Zach a small, sweet smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zach.” She gave him a wave, trying not to stare at his bobbing prick.

Zach grinned. “Yes. The shoes don’t matter. You are definitely a submissive,” he announced happily.

At those words, they threw themselves upon her.

Breanne screamed as she was forced flat on her back, tiny bodies smothering her. Had it been a one on one contest, she would have won it handily, but there were a dozen of them. She felt hands on her arms and legs, pulling her limbs outward, even as other hands groped her. What little coverage her dress provided was torn from her, exposing her breasts and her sex. Tiny fingers pinched her nipples and Breanne gasped when a little hand found the wetness of her slit.

“Please!” She gasped. “Please! Why are you doing this to me?” She cried out. There was a tinkle of metal and she realized they were putting something on her wrists. A moment later two, thick, leather cuffs had been secured around each arm. They were a peculiar shade of blue, the same color as the shoes she was now wearing. Stakes were produced and hammered into the grass, holding her down. Then she felt similar bonds put around each ankle. As her legs were spread, the fingers in her pussy rubbed her eagerly and she felt herself ripening. She moaned and the Munchkin had no problem pushing his entire hand into her sex, fisting her eagerly. He opened and closed his fingers inside her slit and this time when she cried out, there was no doubt that it was in ecstasy.

The weight came up off her as her limbs were secured and then Zach turned her head. Breanne had no time to protest, because as she opened her mouth to speak, the Munchkin’s cock went straight in. It seemed huge to the young girl and she had no option but to suck on it. But despite her sudden attempt at fellatio, she was still paralyzed with the sweet bliss coming from between her legs. She’d never felt anything like it before! The hand inside her pumped and wiggled. Another set of hands were rubbing her breasts, twisting and teasing her nipples. While another set of hands were rubbing her arms and legs. Pleasure seemed to shoot up from every part of her.

“Thank OZ!” Zach shouted. “Relief at last!” Then Zach exploded, filling Breanne’s mouth with his salty cream. She wasn’t ready for it and coughed, sending a spray of cum onto the grass. All around her the Munchkin men gasped.

“You dare spit?” Zach stammered, pulling back and looking at Breanne in astonishment. She sucked in a lungful of air and then coughed, trying to get the last of his spunk out of her lungs.

“Ooooooghhhh” intoned the other Munchkins. One of them looked up at Zach. “Do we dare punish her?”

Zack looked uncomfortable. “It is not our right,” he said. “Probably.”

A quick muttering filtered through the men and Breanne would have paid it more mind except that the one Munchkin with his entire fist up her cunt was still furiously pumping. Then Zach scowled. “Still, she has broken the law and there is no Dominatrix now to punish her.” He yanked the leather sap out of one of the leather straps of his harness it. “We will do it.”

Breanne let out a squeal. “Please! Wait! I didn’t know!”

But Zach didn’t give her a chance to object any further. He knelt down by her side, nodded at the Munchkin puppeting her, and when the little man drew his hand out of Breanne’s cunt, Zach raised the leather sap and began beating her pussy with hard, quick slaps.

Breanne had never felt anything like it before in her young, sweet life. As the leather slapped her clitoris, stinging hot pain shot through her loins, swirling in a maelstrom of sexual energy. She didn’t understand it, but when her brain interpreted the sensorial tsunami, it came out very different than the Munchkin had intended it. Or perhaps not. Breanne arched her back as her toes curled and she even lifted her hips, giving Zach a better target. In seconds the paddle was soaked and she let out a keening cry as the orgasm rushed through her, setting fire to every vein in her body. Her voice filled the clearing and Zach’s blows faltered as his eyes widened. He gave her clit one last smack as fluids spurted from her sex, splattering her thighs and the one poor Munchkin who had been kneeling between her legs, stroking his cock.

“Submissive,” came the excited whisper among the Munchkin men. Zach looked up with a grin as Breanne let out a long, happy sigh.

“Now, we fuck you, submissive,” declared Zach, pointing to the cum soaked Munchkin who had shoved his entire hand into Breanne’s pussy. The little figure quickly moved to kneel between Breanne’s outstretched legs. Breanne just smiled, still lost in an euphoric state of the likes she’d never felt before. Despite the small size of the Munchkin, his cock filled her perfectly and she lay there in a lasting, mind-numbing, sexual euphoria. It didn’t take the little man long. He exploded inside her after just twenty or thirty thrusts, sighing in much needed relief. He moved out of the way, a line forming as the other Munchkins made it clear just how much they each needed to use her pussy. Just as the next Munchkin was pushing his full-sized cock into her dripping wet slit, a jingle of bells seemed to fill the air.

It had an electrifying effect on the Munchkins and they looked up in alarm. The one penetrating Breanne yanked himself out and they all skittered away from the blue bound girl, leaving her alone, and still quite spread-eagled, in the center of the grass circle, surrounded by the silver brick road. Breanne groaned in disappointment at the sudden emptiness between her legs and opened her eyes, trying to see what was the matter.

A golden white globe of light appeared to hover above the spiraling silver brick road and then it approached the grassy circle. It seemed to grow larger and to Breanne’s surprise, she could make out a figure. A boot seemed to step out of the glowing orb and gold and white leather flashed in the sunlight. A woman in skin-tight, white leather pants and a white leather vest emerged and stared down at Breanne, a look of hungry interest on her face. Her cleavage was beyond impressive and she held a crop in her hand. The weapon was white as well, right down to the leather tip. Gold pierced her ears and adorned her throat.

“My, my, my what do we have here?” She purred, walking around the circle, staring down at Breanne. Her boots clicked loudly on the yellow brick. “Bound in blue and not desperate for orgasm yet? How unusual. Spread eagled, thighs wet and open, a shaved slit, pink and greedy. But where is Lucille? And why was I summoned instead of her?”  The woman rolled her eyes. “I hate having to deal with Munchkins,” she said as she looked around. “None of the vermin around, though, leaving you to me.” The woman looked down at Breanne with a hungry look on her face. But then the crop swung down and tapped the shoes on Breanne’s feet and the woman’s eyes narrowed in anger. “And what are you doing wearing shoes? Submissives in OZ don’t have the right to wear shoes. The reason is simple,” the woman said, bending over. “I might want to strike the bottoms of your feet.”

Breanne’s eyes widened as she stared up at the woman. “Please! Please I didn’t mean any disrespect. I didn’t know!”

The blonde woman straightened, her gold painted lips curling up into a smile. Her long, white hair curled around her chin. “Didn’t know? And did you think I wouldn’t recognize them, you thief? Those shoes belong to the Dominatrix of the East, the dominatrix of denial.” The woman spat as she squatted down, eyes focused on the shoes. Breanne could see the distinct shape of her sex beneath the leather. “Where is she?” The woman asked suspiciously, looking around. When Breanne didn’t reply, she placed the end of the crop directly on Breanne’s right tit and tapped it menacingly. Breanne gasped as a sensation of cold seemed to seep into her nipple, hardening it instantly. She blinked, gulping as her chest rose and fell.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said in all honesty.

The crop flicked up and then back down, striking Breanne’s breast hard, slapping the nipple perfectly. Not only did it sting, but a shard of cold seemed to leave the poor redhead girl breathless. Breanne let out a sharp cry as her nipple seemed to get icy. She glanced down, shocked to see a light covering of actual frost coating each areola. She twisted her head, grimacing, only to catch sight of the bondage cuff on her right wrist. It was slowly turning color. From blue to white.

“Don’t lie. Those are the shoes belonging to the Dominatrix of the East. I’d recognize them anywhere,” the woman snapped. “Those are eight inch, handmade, sapphire, mule sandal, high heel, platform, stripper shoes!”  She shook her head angrily. “The Dominatrix of the East was always a slut, even if she was a dominatrix.” She slapped the end of her crop against Breanne’s other tit, eliciting another cry of frozen pain from the bound and bewildered girl. “So I’ll ask again. Where is the Dominatrix of the East? Is this some sort of trick? To lure me here?”

Even as the stinging sensation in her bosom faded into a harsh, throbbing cold, Breanne shook her head. Suddenly she felt like crying and as the tears filled her eyes she bit her lip. “I don’t know! I don’t! I don’t even know where I am! I fell! There was a storm!”

The woman in white raised her crop, this time obviously aiming for Breanne’s clit. But before it could fall, Zach the Munchkin, on all fours, coughed nervously.

“Mistress?” He said softly, as if scared to intervene. “Mistress Savannah?”

The woman with blond hair whirled in fury, but her eyes softened slightly as she saw Zach. “I have no interest in you Munchkin,” she said hotly. “You do not belong to me and I have no real interest in torturing you.” She gave the little man a wry look. “No one wants to fuck a Munchkin.”

Zach nodded as if in agreement. “Yes Mistress, but I thought you should know that the girl fell out of the sky in the wooden house. The Dominatrix of the East was …” he paused, his face pale. “She was under it when it fell. She was tormenting Edgar.”

Savannah’s eyes widened and she looked down at Breanne. “What magic is this?” She demanded. “You who would destroy a dominatrix?” This time the crop flew and no cough stopped it. The leather end slapped furiously onto Breanne’s slit, striking with fast, repeated blows as the bound girl cried out. In seconds her petals were a blushing red, tinged with blue and a rim of frost had appeared along Breanne’s labia. She lifted her ass off the grass and Mistress Savannah made sure to catch her folds as well.

“There now,” the woman in white said with satisfaction. “Now you truly are red as a rose. A frozen one.” She stepped onto the grass. “This does not bode well. The death of a Dominatrix? Who are you?” she asked. Breanne stammered something unintelligible through her sobs. Mistress Savannah shook her head and placed the crop back down on Breanne’s pussy, except this time she stroked the girl. Breanne gasped, eyes wide at the cold caress, her hips thrusting upward. Ice seemed to form on Bre’s clitoris.

“Oh my God! So cold!” Bre squealed. Savannah laughed, but then saw the black dildo lying next to Breanne. She bent down, picked it up, and looked at it. “Is this yours?” She asked curiously.

Breanne nodded, but again her crying made her speech unintelligible.

Savannah gave her a curious look. “Are you a plaything of the Dominatrix of the West, then?” She asked, holding up the dildo. “Is that what this is about? Is Julie making her play? This is of her color.”

Breanne finally swallowed. “I-I-I’m not anything. I’m from Texas. I’m Breanne!”

Savannah snorted. “You are hardly nothing,” she observed. “You are nude and wearing bondage cuffs, marking you a submissive in Oz and therefore a subject of any dominatrix in the land. Yet you wear the shoes of the most powerful dominatrix of Oz, a powerful token full of magic, one that any of the others, including myself, would gladly relieve you of. Your toy bears the shape and colors of the Dominatrix of the West, a  woman whom I would not anger without cause. This toy marks you as one of hers. It is all very confusing.”

Savannah looked over at Zach. “You. Munchkin. Return the dildo to the girl.” She tossed the black dildo into the grass and looked at Breanne. “Did you have a name for it?” She asked, tapping her crop against Breanne’s breast.

“The dildo?” Breanne was racked with another shudder as she tried to speak. “To-to…” she gasped, clearly trying to say “torpedo dildo”. Savannah nodded and lifted the crop. “To-to. How unusual.” She looked at Zach who was already crawling back into the ring. “Munchkin, put To-to into Breanne of Texas.”

Breanne shook her head, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. “No,” she mumbled. “Not to-to. Torpedo…” but the words were lost as she felt the thick, black rubber slide into her abused pussy. Zach began pumping it wildly and almost instantly Breanne felt her arousal blossom once more. In seconds she was panting, her hips thrusting back against the pounding the little Munchkin man was giving her pussy.

Savannah sighed, looking thoughtful as the color of Breanne’s wrist and ankle cuffs began to change to black, the white seeping away like melting snow. 

“Leave it, Munchkin,” Savannah ordered the little man still fucking Breanne with the black dildo. He looked up, a frightened expression on his face, and he darted away. Savannah leaned over, and tapped Breanne’s wrist. “Sit up. Remove the shoes and give them to me,” she demanded.

Breanne realized her wrists had come loose from the stakes holding her spread-eagled and she pushed herself up. The dildo slid out of her slippery sex, but she didn’t dare touch it. The dominatrix herself ignored it as well. Mistress Savannah moved down toward Breanne’s ankles and repeated the process.

“There. You are free. Remove the shoes of your own free will and give them to me,” she ordered. 

Breanne blinked. “Why do you want the shoes so bad?” She asked.

Savannah laughed and slapped the edge of her crop against the side of Breanne’s right breast. The crack was loud, but not enough to be heard through the almost immediate cry of pain that came from the girl’s mouth.

“Because it is magic and I may use it, while you, an ignorant fuckslut, good for nothing but providing satisfaction for others, cannot fathom the power. You will do as I have ordered.”

Bre bit her lip, but then as the crop came back up, her hands reached for her feet.

“Okay! Please! Just don’t hit me again!” Bre squealed, her fingers scrabbling at the strap. For a second, she thought she’d managed to undo the buckle, but she was wrong. It had been easy to close, but seemed to have some sort of special latch, impossible to undo yourself.  

“I… I can’t get it off,” she panted, looking up at Mistress Savannah with a bit of panic. She held up her foot, tilting back. Savannah examined it, though she wouldn’t touch the shoes themselves. Then she scowled. 

“I suspected as much. It’s sealed with magic.” She shook her head, looking thoughtful. “I will need time to consider a way to remove them. You will be brought to my castle in the north. There I can properly torture you. With sufficient effort and orgasm, your mind will be turned to sex jelly, unable to think beyond the hedonistic delight of cumming. Then I will be able to remove the shoes.” 

The woman in white swung her crop downward and tapped on Breanne’s right wrist. The cuff itself went a startling white and Breanne was yanked backward once again, finding herself laid out, spread-eagled on the grass. Except this time there were no stakes. Mistress Savannah stroked the end of her crop over Breanne’s sex, making the poor, redheaded waif moan. Panting with need and the desire to cum again, she looked up at Savannah. “I don’t understand,” she said breathlessly, aching.

Savannah laughed. “Of course you don’t. You are an enigma in Oz. You belong, yet don’t belong. You are a horse wearing a skirt. A tree with roots coming out of the top. You are a pipe without holes.” She paused, a smirk on her face, her crop moving in lazy circles over Breanne’s clit. “Well, maybe not, but those holes will be stuffed soon enough..”

Breanne groaned, the pleasure streaming up from between her legs even more intense. “But… I just want to go home,” she whispered.

Savannah suddenly squatted down, her eyes glittering. “Do you? Really? Look at you! Leg’s spread like a wanton fuckslut. You even allowed a Munchkin to fuck you. Do you realize where that puts you?” The woman snorted. “It means that there isn’t anything in Oz you wouldn’t fuck.” She gave the Munchkins a look of disgust. “Good lord, only the Dominatrix of the East would touch them, and then it was just as an amusement, making them fuck each other and never allowing them relief” Savannah shook her head. “That was her interest. Denial. It’s how she tortured her submissives. You are a fucktoy. A plaything. Designed to provide relief and satisfaction to others. Don’t even think of yourself as a person. You are an object, just as your ‘To-to’ is. Accept it.” She lifted her crop and ran the tip across Breanne’s tits, teasing her nipples, searing cold making Breanne’s breasts ache. Breanne’s chest heaved in response and it became clear another orgasm was building inside her.

“You are also a thief,” said the Mistress of the North. “Though why I wasn’t summoned for such a vile act I do not know. Still, you will be properly punished for it. I will mount you upon an edge of ice, so that your pussy freezes slowly in agony. And then I will impale you on ice dildos. I will freeze your nipples, only to let them thaw and be frozen again. You will know the agony of feeling your clit lose all sensation, only to scream as the pins and needles sensation overwhelms your sex.” Savannah declared. She suddenly grabbed the black dildo belonging to Breanne and she threw it far away, into the debris of Breanne’s destroyed house. 

“I will return with an appropriate conveyance to bring you to my domain,” announced the Dominatrix. “I promise you a freezing, yet sexually intense ride.” She looked around, but all the Munchkins had disappeared. “I dislike the idea of leaving you at the whim of these Munchkins, but at least I know you’ll still be here when I return. They would never willingly give up the chance to fuck one such as you. The idea of relief is too great.” Savannah sneered. She stalked away and whirled her crop around her head once.

“Hear me Munchkins! The redheaded girl is mine! You may fuck her, but do not attempt to release her or you will face my wrath!” 

And with that shouted threat, she spun once and was encased in a glowing, magic sphere which floated away until it disappeared.

Breanne groaned and closed her eyes. For a long moment there was silence, but then she heard the Munchkins returning. She opened her eyes and looked up at Zach. His cock was flaccid and he looked down at her with a mixture of sympathy and hunger. 

“Part of me wants to keep you here until Mistress Savannah returns. But you killed the wicked Dominatrix of the East. You took her shoes! We will hide from the Dominatrix of the North,” he declared. Then he bent down, grabbed Breanne’s hand, and pulled.

Nothing happened.

He muttered something, then spoke harshly to the other Munchkin men. They surged on to the green and all of them pulled, but none of them were able to make the white bondage cuffs come up from the circle.

“Wait! Get the black dildo!” Zach said in sudden realization. One of the other Munchkin men darted off, quickly entering the remains of Breanne’s house and she could hear him rustling through the debris, looking for her Torpid Torpedo phallus.

"Please? What do you mean? What are you doing?” She begged.

“You must journey to the Emerald City,” said the Munchkin quickly. “There you will find Kari, the wizardess. It is not a difficult journey, but it is not an easy one either. She is good and wise. She will help you.”

Breanne, still madly aroused, swallowed. “Will she help me cum?” She blinked, then shook her head. “I mean, get home?”

Zack the Munchkin laughed. “Oz is already affecting you. Yes to the first, repeatedly. Perhaps to the second, once.” The munchkin out looking for her dildo suddenly cried out in excitement and he burst back out into the clearing, holding the shiny black cock up like a trophy. Zach motioned him over and took it with a grin. “You’ll enjoy this,” he said, positioning the dildo between Breanne’s legs. Her eyes widened as he thrust it in deep, pounding her hard and fast with both hands. She gasped, body twitching. The other munchkins gathered around, watching with excitement. 

“It needs to hurt her,” Zach said, glancing at Breanne’s cuffs. They were still white, but had started to turn grayer. “Pinch and slap her breasts!” The other Munchkins grinned and then fell on her again. Breanne cried out as rough fingers grasped her nipples, pulling and squeezing, twisting as she was fucked senseless. Her body quivered with both the pain and the pleasure and in less than a minute she was cumming, fluids spurting out from around the black cock, her toes curling in the sapphire shoes. She twisted to the side, closing her legs, curling into a fetal ball and knocking Zach the Munchkin out of the way. 

It was then that she realized that she was free. She lifted her wrist and saw that the leather cuff had turned black.

“What? What did you do?” She gasped.

The munchkin shrugged, looking smug. “The Dominatrix of North secured you to the grass using her magic. It would only last as long as you weren’t being used by another one of the Dominatrixes. Since you had a dildo belonging to the Dominatrix of the West, we tricked the cuffs into thinking she was using you.”

Breanne swallowed and sat up. “Won’t that get you into trouble?” She asked, still too shocked to be more than a little awed.

Zack shook his head, but all the other munchkins nodded yes. He frowned at them. “You must go,” he said quickly to Breanne. “Before Mistress Savannah returns. She will bring a torture cart to take you to her castle. Miles of pain and sex. You don’t want to be in one.” He reached out and took her hand. He was too small to haul her to her feet, but he still tried. She stood, wobbling slightly on her heels. The dildo slid out of her pussy and she caught it, looking at the slick, shiny cock. 

“But… where do I go?” She stammered.

“The wizardess!” one of the munchkins said.

Zach nodded. “The Emerald City. Go! All you must do is follow the silver brick road,” Zach said, waving at the path before her.

“The silver brick road?” said Breanne, still in shock. Fluids dripped down her thighs and her dildo was clutched in her hand.

“Yes, you silly slut. The silver brick road. How hard is it?” Zach said impatiently. He pointed at the bricks again. 

“But… but I’m naked!” Breanne said.

Zack rolled his eyes. “We are all naked. All submissives. It will protect you. Sorta.” He leaned forward. “It means that instead of something killing you outright, you’ll just get fucked stupid.” Zack reached forward suddenly with his hand and brought it up between Breanne’s legs. His fingers parted her folds and dipped deep into her wetness. She gasped at the sudden violation, but then groaned as he finger fucked her, eyes closed. Then he pulled his hand away, brought his finger up to his mouth, and sucked it clean. She watched him through half lidded eyes. Then he swatted her hard on the ass. 

Breanne squealed, twisting away and she glared at the little man. But then she realized that he had forced her to take a single step, and that her heels were already on the brick.  One of the other Munchkins waved at her. “Follow the silver brick road!” He said, pointing. She circled round the spiral. The other Munchkins seemed to follow. Then all together they began to sing.

“Follow the silver brick road. Follow the silver brick road. Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the silver brick road…”

Breanne saw Zach look at her grimly. “Go, before I change my mind and we use you again!” He shouted. He grabbed his dick and wiggled it obscenely.

She hesitated. Gangbanged by Munchkins? Lay back down in the grass and let them bind her again, spread-eagled? Held captive as a sex slave? Then, tortured by Savannah? She bit her lip and almost turned around. But then she gave Zach an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could. But really, I need to get home! Thank you!” She waved and turned her back on the horny little men. Then, her feet already aching in the high heels, she started down the silver brick road.



More to cum!