<h2>Chapter 1: The Fallen Witch’s Temptation</h2>
Dorothy stood in the eerie, emerald-tinted twilight of Munchkinland, her boots crunching against the shattered remnants of a once-grand house. The structure had plummeted from the sky—her own twisted ticket to this bizarre land of Oz—and beneath its splintered frame lay the Wicked Witch of the East, lifeless yet strangely alluring. Dorothy’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of perverse fascination. She’d always had a taste for the taboo, a secret thrill in the forbidden, and now, with this witch pinned beneath the wreckage, a dark hunger stirred within her.
“Damn, girl, you’ve got yourself in quite the pickle, haven’t ya?” Dorothy muttered to the corpse, her voice dripping with a sly, Kansas drawl. She adjusted the bulge in her gingham skirt, her shemale secret throbbing with anticipation. “Bet you never saw this comin’—a farm girl droppin’ a house on your sorry ass. But hell, you’re still a sight, even in death.”
She crouched down, her sharp eyes tracing the witch’s pale, green-tinged skin, the tattered black robes clinging to curves that death couldn’t diminish. Dorothy’s fingers twitched, itching to touch, to claim. She’d spent countless nights back in Kansas, alone in the barn, stroking herself to wicked fantasies. But this? This was real. This was raw.
“Bet you were a real bitch in life,” she taunted, her lips curling into a smirk as she brushed a strand of silver hair from the witch’s cold face. “But now? You’re all mine to play with. No cackling, no curses—just a pretty little toy under my house.”
Her pulse raced, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple as she slid a hand under her skirt, freeing her hard cock from its confines. It pulsed in her grip, eager, hungry. “Let’s see if you’ve still got some magic in you, sweetheart,” she purred, her voice low and teasing. “I’ve been horny as hell since I landed in this freaky place. Might as well break you in.”
Dorothy’s other hand roamed over the witch’s still form, fingers daringly slipping beneath the torn fabric, finding cold flesh that somehow still sent a jolt of heat through her. She was panting now, her breath ragged with need. “Fuck, you’re makin’ me wet just lyin’ there,” she growled, her grip tightening on herself, stroking slow and deliberate. “Bet that pussy of yours could still take a good pounding, huh? Or maybe I’ll flip you over, see how tight that ass is.”
She leaned closer, her lips hovering just above the witch’s lifeless ones, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make you feel alive again, even if it’s just for me.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper as she positioned herself, the tip of her cock brushing against the witch’s thigh, dripping with anticipation. “Time to fuck some magic into this dead bitch.”
The air around her seemed to hum with a strange, forbidden energy, as if Oz itself was watching, waiting for her to cross that final line. Dorothy’s heart pounded, her body sweating with raw, primal lust. She was ready to explode, to claim this fallen witch in a way no one in this candy-colored land could ever imagine.
And then, with a sharp intake of breath, she thrust forward—
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