The First Dream - by Franco ("Frankie the Tree") Arborio

It was a strange and peaceful evening. All the good citizens of Emerald City slept soundly while the two moons of Oz strolled languidly in the yellow green translucent sky. After the images of the wonderful events of that day Dorothy had fallen into a quietly contented sleep...
She dreamt she was walking on one of the many beautiful paths in the gardens and forests of the City. She had seen their beauty extending to the horizon earlier that afternoon from her window on the East side of the City. The footpaths meandered in and out of clumps of trees and plots of flowers and looked so inviting... But the sun of Oz had set some time ago and the light now had that wonderful grey quality that brings out the subtler gradations of every hue. Toto had scampered ahead out of sight pursuing who knows what but this did not bother her. He seldom gets into trouble, he'll be fine, she thought.
She stopped next to a clump of trees whose shade was now almost completely dark and in that shade she thought she saw the first firefly of the evening. I will catch it and it will bring me good luck, she told herself. She took several steps toward the place where she thought she had seen the tiny flicker of light. The ground was dark under the trees and she stumbled and fell headlong to the forest floor. Falling so suddenly she did not have time to put her hands in front of her and in fear turned her head just as she was about to hit the ground. Her head bounced gently in the soft undergrowth. "My, this is not the wet, cold, icky forest floor I expected," she exclaimed, "this is soft... and dry... and it feels like hair... why, this ground is cozy warm!"
She raised her head and looked directly in front of her and saw a mushroom. It was like no mushroom she had ever seen before, longer than her hand, slender, with a very thick stem of a pale pink shade that seemed to glow slightly brighter the more she looked at it. At the top of the stem was an almost bulbous head with a slight but well flared rim where it joined the stem. It was sort of dark red... or was it a dusky rose... or perhaps... she could not decide and put her head down on the ground to think.
Yes, indeed, it felt like hair and now her right ear noticed deep growlings coming from under her. Suddenly she felt hungry, deeply hungry. She raised her head again and saw the mushroom that glowed brighter as she looked at it. She grabbed it by the stem. "Oh, my, it is so warm!" she said. With a gentle tug she tried to pull it up. Perhaps it will satisfy my hunger, she thought. But the mushroom made a squeaky, whimpering sound. I would think it would hurt to be pulled out of the ground like that, she said to herself, perhaps I should eat it like it is. The mushroom made a happy, contented, purring sound. Yes, yes, that's what I will do, she thought. And she raised herself to her knees, and tucking them under her, she put her hands on each side the mushroom. As she lowered her face toward the glowing mushroom her hunger increased and she licked her lips in anticipation. Her mouth was watering heavily as she closed her eyes and brushed the top of the mushroom with her lips. She let the tip of her tongue glide around the bulbous head until she knew that she was exactly above it and at its center. Then she opened her lips just enough to caress it and slowly lowered her head. My, what an interesting taste, so subtle and so smooth, she thought, I think I will take a bite.
But as her teeth began to nip the top of the head the mushroom squeaked loudly and then whimpered. Surprised, she stopped immediately. Perhaps it does not want to be eaten but only licked, she thought. She said "There, there, I will kiss it and make it well again". She gave it a little kiss on the top of the head and then lowered her head to let it come deeper into her mouth. Now her lips could feel the flared edges of the head and the little groove where it joined the stem. She swept her lips up and down the sides of the head letting them caress its smoothness, while her tongue licked it in circles or sometimes just back and forth across the top. The mushroom made very contented purring sounds once again which became louder as her licking continued. She sucked gently on it from time to time taking care not to let her teeth contact the tender surface.
The mushroom's purring became louder. This is the best popsickle I have ever eaten, she said to herself, and it enjoys me so much. Wanting to please and be pleased more, she lowered her head again now thinking she might engulf it completely. Oh, it is such a wonderful mouthful, she thought, I want more. When the head of the mushroom reached her throat she felt a tightening there and almost gagged but was persistent and lowered her head again pushing harder. Again she gagged. Oh, drat, what shall I do now, I would like to swallow it all but I don't know how, perhaps I will be contented with this much. She moved her head up and down a little, feeling how the mushroom pressed against the back of her palate now that she was no longer letting it into her throat. Her attention shifted to her lips which were caressing the little tuft of skin that was left from when the head of the mushroom opened up from the stem.
The mushroom purred much more strongly now and she continued trying to caress the little skin as best she could because it was almost beyond her reach. She would press down driving the head of the mushroom against the back of her mouth and reach as far as she could with her lips and then pull up a little while her lips nibbled at the little skin. The mushroom purred even louder. She moved her head more freely now that she knew how not to gag and sucked as much of the mushroom as she could reach in long deep strokes. The purring of the mushroom rose until she could hear nothing else, the ground under her started to shake while the mushroom itself became rigidly stiff in her mouth. She was about to think: Oh, my, it is getting very excited... when her mouth became completely filled by the warm, soft gushing of a fluid that came from the mushroom's core.
She could not contain it all, even as she swallowed several mouthfuls while continuing to move her head up and down to please it even further. The fluid was running down to the forest floor where she could see that it was glowing with little points of light, twinkling as they spread. Wanting to make sure that she was not just dreaming this wonderful experience she blinked hard and through her closed eyelids continued to see through the dark shadows in the clump of trees. There were four small elf like creatures, each at one corner of what seemed like a filmy translucent blanket and as they moved graciously in the undergrowth the objects under the blanket were illuminated with a soft, magical light. They are the spreaders of light, Dorothy thought. Then she remembered that she had closed her eyes to make sure that she was not just dreaming of eating the wonderful mushroom that glowed brighter when she looked at it.
But when she opened her eyes, she found that she was not in the forest anymore. Strange bright light, almost like daylight, but somehow thick, almost viscous. She could feel her body had grown and matured. She was in a farmhouse, she could see the yard and animals from her window. She looked at herself in the mirror of the dresser next to her. "My, how I have grown!" she said out loud. Indeed, she was considerably taller, a strapping young woman in a blue gingham dress wearing an apron as if she had just come from the kitchen. Am I in Kansas again? have I come home? the thoughts raced through her mind.
They were interrupted by a young boy's voice at the door of the bedroom. He was saying: "Maw! Paw is in the barn screaming and hollering... he said for you to get your ass over there on the double!" Her mind quickly rose to anger, she was not having any of that from that foul mouthed... "Tommy!" she screamed surprised at the strength of her own voice, "you have really done it this time! It is a good thing that the Mr. Grover's buggy is at the gate. I will take care of that mouth of yours when you get home!" "But Maw," the little voice whimpered " that's what Paw said..." "You heard me, young man. I will deal with you tonight!" She took one last look at the grown up woman in the mirror and then hurried out of the house scattering chickens, ducks and pigs on her way to the barn. I must not keep Paw waiting... I must not keep Paw waiting... I hope he is not too mad at me...
She felt relieved as she rounded the corner of the barn and came within sight of the door until she realized that in her haste she had not put down the hairbrush she had been using in front of the mirror. Before she could register her surprise she had entered the barn and was looking at Paw standing there with a very wide smile in his mouth. "Oh, it is good to see you, and you even remembered to bring the brush, you are truly wonderful!" She blushed deeply as she remembered that morning and how they were barely awake and rubbing against each other. So aroused, so ready for each other... and then the alarm clock had rung and there was no choice but to get up and start to take care of the morning chores before Tommy left for school.
Now they had time and the morning was warm. They embraced and kissed deep tongue kisses while their hands petted and squeezed and rubbed. Her hands followed his rib cage down into the loose overalls, further down, enjoying that he was wearing nothing under them, feeling his naked buns which were suspiciously warm. "Why, Paw, have you been exercising again?" she teased. "Oh, Maw, I found this beautiful stave from the small barrel and just couldn't resist, Maw, honest. It's even curved to fit me, it feels so good Maw, will you lend me a hand?" He was teasing too. His hands had raised the long skirt a little at a time until he held her bare buns and squeezed them so that they pulled her pussy in the must bothersome way. "I will do that, Paw, as soon as you are done kneading my loaves and making my oven drip down the front of my dress. You are terrible, Paw, you get my pussy wet and you ask me to spank you at the same time, how will I decide?"
Paw dropped to his knees without answering, flipped her skirt over his head and stuck his tongue as far between her legs as he could. She gasped as he took his first lick of her clit. Then he suddenly stood up and handed her the barrel stave that was still stuck in one of his back pockets. "Get to work, woman, time's a-wasting!" He slipped the overall straps down, stepped out of the crumpled mound in which they had collapsed and bent down, his legs apart, his fingers almost touching the ground. She did not hesitate and swung the stave in a wide arc that ended with a satisfying WHACK as the curved surface cupped his cheeks. A great ripple swept up his buns and reached his waist before returning as a quiver. "Oh, you are good, Maw, you sure can keep your fellow happy!" She did not need to be told how to make those red stretched cheeks even redder.
Slowly, methodically, she swung the barrel stave which whistled as it homed in on his willing flesh. WHACK..."just like that, WHACK just like that, now a little lower, WHACK ahh! so good! Again on the same spot, please WHACK oh, it feels so good, your hand's not getting tired, is it Maw? WHACK aahh! a little higher now just a WHACK ooh! you can go a smidge harder if you want WHAACK! aaah! wait a couple of seconds... now again please Maw! WHAACK! nhh! oh, why does it feel so good? huh, Maw? WHAAACK! oooh! gimme a good dozen like that and then it's your turn, ok? WHAAACK! ohhh! and maybe just a little harder? WHAAAAACK! aaaahh! just like that, just like that..." moving his legs as if he were shaking the sting in his cheeks...WHAAAAACK!
She was fascinated by the rippling of his buns as much as by their color. It was possible to watch it in slow motion. As the barrel stave dug into his cheeks and started to bounce back these quivering waves would move away from the impact and would travel up to his waist, down to his thighs, around the sides of his hips, one marvelous wave after the other. It was with some sadness that both of them greeted the last great WHAAAAACK! which almost toppled him forward. Now there would be no more sting, no more ripples... well, the redness would last for a while, and maybe they could refresh it later.
But now, it was her turn. She gave him back the stave and he grabbed her hand and embraced her, a glad, thankful bear hug and a kiss that pleased her to the core. Then she run to where the milking stool was and run back enjoying the bouncing of all of her large body and put the milking stool by the saddle that was perched on the rail. Paw had done such a good job of strengthening up the rail so it would not rock very much and putting that saddle there so that it didn't move very much either. She climbed up on the milking stool and draped herself across the saddle, her feet almost lifting from the stool and her hair hanging down over her head and face on the other side of the saddle. As soon as her hips were neatly held in the curve of the saddle Paw came up and slowly raised her long skirt, draping it well over her waist onto her back. She felt her rear being bared with such eager anticipation that she wiggled her behind slightly even though she could hardly move in this position.
"Oh, Maw, you are so pretty and so nice when you wiggle like that, here, don't let me keep you waiting..." Moving to her left side he brought his hand down on her right cheek with a meaty slap that drew a little gasp from her. He followed it with one to the left, equally hard and well placed. Then right, then left again, medium hand slaps to the middle of her cheeks bringing out the color. "Oh, Paw, you do it so good, just keep going like that for a while, please..." She felt each slap, deep, firm, fleshy, his hand almost kneading her willing tail... warm, so enjoyable. After the first couple of dozen he started to move the landing spot all around her lovely rear, now increasing the strength of the slaps. Her buns were now a deep shade of pink and her waist felt so good as his hand pressed down on it. The rhythm and the level and the sting of the spanking were increasing most satisfactorily, his right hand lifting an arm's length from her ass and landing with solid, loud, stinging slaps. She made little ooh! and aah! and unh! sounds as Paw continued to warm her buns most lovingly.
"The brush, Paw, the brush, I'm ready, Paw..." He reached for the brush that she had balanced precariously on the end of the rail and held it to his own buns, cool surface against boiling flesh, warming it for a few seconds. Then applied it to her willing posterior, lightly at first covering all of her redness and bringing the level of stinging to a new height. Then he began increasing both the level and the rhythm until she began to move her legs a little. "More, Paw, you whack! can... Whack!go... WHACK! unh! a little... WHAACK! aaah!...harder WHAACK! oooh!... Paw, like WHAACK! oh! oh! that...WHAACK! ahhhh!... but Paw WHAACK! eehh!...PAW!" He paused and she said: "one more dozen and then your strap, huh? Paw?"... WHAACK! the hairbrush continued to land on her crimson cheeks, from above, from below, sending waves of flesh to her waist and back, in the middle of those beautiful buns, flattening them so much that they were pale as soon as he lifted the brush and then gained back their color a split second later... Then two last, well laid WHAAACK... aaaahh!... WHAAACK!... aaaahh!... and after a few hard breaths: "Thank you, Paw, just like that, oh! you know how much I love that, oh! thank you!"
He reached for the strap that was hanging from a nail next to the rail. It was no ordinary strap, it was thick, wide, full of holes and it made a whistling sound as it landed across the middle of both cheeks...ssSSWHECK! "ouh! ouh! oooh!... again, Paw, please... ssSSSWOKK! aaahhh!... again, please, Paw... ssSSSWHAACK! unhh!... just like that, Paw... ssSSSWHAACK! oooohhh!... ssSSWHAAACK! aaahhh!... ssSSWHAAACK! aaahhh!... ssSSWAAACK! oooohhh!..." and then she heard from behind her a voice she thought she knew. It was saying: "Help me! Dorothy, help me, please!" but it was not Paw. She raised her head, her hair still in her eyes, looking over her mounded skirt and saw that Paw's face wasn't the same...
Why, his face is like the Wizard, she thought, like the great and mighty Oz himself, oh! my goodness and look at him, the poor man... And the voice continued: "I am overcome, Dorothy, please help me!" "Yes, Great Wizard, but how will I be able to help you?" "You must help me Dorothy, I am under the spell of the Wicked Itch of the Wick!" "But Great Wizard, this itch: is it a good itch or a bad itch?" "It is a wicked good itch, Dorothy, but even Great Wizards cannot control the Wicked Itch of the Wick... I am under it's spell, Dorothy, help me!" "But how shall I help you, Great Wizard?" He was no longer able to answer her question for all the skin of his body was stretched and tense as his Mighty Wick became longer and thinner until it was longer than his arm but no bigger than a broomstick with a reddish bulb on the end. It had become the Whipping Wick.
He moved to her left side and spun his body first away from her then right back bringing the Whipping Wick into contact with both of her crimson globes with a loud, sharp, carnal slap. It stung so wickedly good that Dorothy squealed in delight as she also felt the velvety red bulb wrap and caress her right hip. "Oh, that is wicked good, Great Wizard, so wicked good!" Her words were hardly out of her mouth when the next stroke fell across her cheeks almost stopping her breath with the delicious stinging. And again it fell giving her utmost pleasure for the third time.
But then the Wizard placed the red bulbous end of his Whipping Wick almost between her cheeks at the top of her labia and nudged it lightly in. He then proceeded to move in a strange fashion until he had made a semicircle around her ass and was now standin on her right side. Oh, my, he is truly a Wizard, there was not the slightest change of pressure against my pussy while he walked around me, she thought and felt hot and flushed. The Wizard once again swung the mighty Whipping Wick and struck Dorothy's willing ass with a loud, sharp, carnal slap sending her into shudders of pleasure. He repeated the lashing of the Whipping Wick two more times bathing her in stinging ecstasy. "This is truly six of the very best, Great Wizard!" she said when she recovered her breath.
But the pleasure was overpowering and she became aware of the high pitched voices of the Munchkin women as they sang lasciviously in her head: . Ding! dong! . the Niche is hot . the Niche is wet . the Wicked Niche does itch... said the little voices as she fell almost completely under the spell of the Wicked Itch of the Niche. In what seemed like a desperate cry for help but was really a throaty gurgle of anticipation, she said, "Oh! please help me, Great Wizard, now I am the one who is under the spell of the Wicked Itch of the Niche, please help me!"
The Great Wizard could do nothing, however, because all of the skin on his body was still so taut from the Wicked Itch of the Wick that he could not even close his mouth. Great webs of tight skin run down from his chin to his chest and even further. With a deep throaty growl the Wizard mustered all his powers and raising one arm he made a magical gesture. Now Dorothy could see all around without raising her head from where she was, draped most invitingly over the saddle. She could see her back and legs, all of her back and legs. "Oh! my, I am a big girl, am I not? and look at those buns... and my slippers... I still have the Ruby Red Slippers on... and Oh! dear, my buns are the same color as the Ruby Red Slippers!... no wonder they feel so good..." then she saw that the Whipping Wick was now changing shape again, becoming shorter but thicker and stiffer and of such size that she became alarmed. She wanted all of that Wicked Wick in her Itchy Niche but would it fit? Only by looking at the Wizard's eyes did she conquer that fear and managed to wiggle her tail most lasciviously at him.
This caused the Great Wick to swell further and almost with a mind of its own plunge slowly into her equally Great Niche. Her legs spread until she thought she would split and then spread some more because it was such a sweet feeling. The Great Itch drew them together, his Wick so engorged and erect that he turned pale down to his belly button. With what little blood there was left in his brain he could faintly hear the lascivious voices of the Munchkin men singing in his head: . Ding! Dong! . The Wick is red . The Wick is hot . The Wicked Wick does itch... said the little voices and he pressed forward feeling the Great Wick wedge between her hip bones and then slowly slide into her, completely filling her waiting Niche. With great effort he followed the imperative command of the Wicked Good Itch and plunged his gigantic and distended Wick in and out of her gigantic and distended Niche. Until he started loosing his senses in the ecstacy of the Itch, unable to utter a single word as the Itching Wick erupted and the Itching Niche engulfed it in a frenzy of desire. After many wanton thrusts and moans their motion subsided and at the exact time at which they both became still the Great Wizard disappeared while Dorothy said loudly to herself "Oh! my, people come and go so quickly around here..."
The morning light bathed Dorothy's eyes as she woke up. Toto was curled up against the back of her legs still dreaming of chasing something, feet and tail twitching while he made whimpering noises. Not quite sure that she was not still dreaming Dorothy slowly put her hand between her legs and was surprised to hear herself say out loud: "ooh! icky!" and then with a very wide smile: "It must be the Wicked Ick of the Wick!... oh! Toto, I think I would like to stay here at least one more night!" Toto was awake by now and was licking her face good morning.

Lyrics by Amiglia ("Amy the Pearl") Arborio ************

with due respect to the memory of Frank L. Baum