Dorothy woke to the sound of katydids and the discovery that the sun hadn't moved in the sky. What is this place? she wondered, getting to her feet, remembering the incredible sex she had just had with a man who was not quite real. Her body however, reminded her how real it had been, for her legs wobbled and her head swam.
Exiting the corn field, she found the scarecrow standing in the yellow brick road, looking very much like a child who had done something bad.
"Um, my, um, head's all full of stuffin'," he said, looking down at the golden bricks.
"You're quite good at stuffin,'" Dorothy replied, and she could almost see the color of blush in his cheeks, and she thought he was adorable.
They walked hand in hand down the yellow brick road, stopping occasionally to lie under the shade of a tree where Dorothy would ask the scarecrow to lick the trickle of juice that had run down her thigh. He of course would coyly oblige, running his very life-like tongue up her leg and over her dripping pussy. At one point, she clenched his straw hair so hard that a chunk of it came out, but the scarecrow simply stuffed it back under his wide-brimmed hat and continued eating her out.
They followed the road as it snaked its way into a thick forest. The sun's rays sliced through the branches of the trees and dancing on the bricks. Apples littered the ground, and they stopped to eat until a strange rusty voice interrupted them.
They spun around and saw a six foot tall metallic statue shining in the sunlight. He held an ax in both hands, and looked quite out of place in such natural surroundings.
"Oil can." The voice came again. The scarecrow and Dorothy exchanged looks. Could the voice be coming from this statue?