Dorothy

By R. Thomas

It has been years since the nineteen-year-old Dorothy has been to the magical Land of Oz, but when she returns, after submitting to the sadomasochist tendencies of her former schoolmaster, she encounters a world of erotic discipline and lascivious practices. All the power of Oz has fallen into the hands of a cruel Emperor who uses it to fulfill his own carnal lust. Dorothy must surrender to his whim of punishments and humiliations or give him the last powerful object he needs: the Silver Slippers, which were lost so many years ago. Will her resolve be broken and will she become just another slave to the Emperor's sexual appetite? Or will she be able to find her way home, back to Kansas, to confront a handsome man and his own cravings?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Torrid Books
• Release date: Jan 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781611604481

R. Thomas

R. ROOSEVELT THOMAS, Jr., Ph.D. (Atlanta, GA) one of America's most respected authorities on diversity issues, is CEO of R. Thomas Consulting Training, Inc. and founder of the American Institute for Managing Diversity. He is the author of Beyond Race and Gender (AMACOM 0-8144-7807-7) and Redefining Diversity (AMACOM 0-8144-0228-3). M

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DOROTHY

by

R. Thomas

TORRID BOOKS

www.torridbooks.com

Published by

TORRID BOOKS

www.torridbooks.com

An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

Whiskey Creek Press

PO Box 51052

Casper, WY 82605-1052

Copyright Ó 2013 by R. Thomas

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN 978-1-61160-448-1

Credits

Cover Artist: Harris Channing

Editor: Dennis Hays

Printed in the United States of America

Frank Baum wrote his classic children's novel called The Wonderful Wizard of Oz in 1900, which captured the imagination of young and old alike for generations for years to come. He would go on to write an additional thirteen books dealing with the fantasy world of Oz.

This novel, Dorothy, begins where Baum's first masterpiece leaves off. But when Dorothy returns to Oz as a young adult, she will find that she and the land have changed, and must face an erotic story of submission, punishment, domination, humiliation, and sadomasochism to find her way home again.

Chapter 1

Alright class, place your blackboards on your desk. It is about time for me to release you. I hope everyone has a good weekend. We will see you here on Sunday for worship service. Until Monday morning, you are dismissed.

The students grabbed their books and utensils, quickly making their way to the center aisle, in a jovial mood as they looked forward to the weekend pleasantries—all except one, an older redheaded girl, eighteen now, her clothes worn out due to constant use on the farm. She wasn't much of a student any more than she was a teacher's aide, which gave her a few extra dollars a month for helping with the younger students. She slowly gathered her supplies into a neat little pile on her desk in the back of the room, waiting for all the younger students to exit. About to take her leave, a blonde girl re-entered the school building and pushed her books and papers to the floor with a wicked smile across her face.

Oops, I'm so sorry, Miss Dorothy, she mocked as she slid past her heading toward the front of the class towards the teacher. Dorothy could only look at her with a hint of dejection in her eyes. Too much was going on in her life to be picked on by the likes of Emily, the daughter of the small town's general store owner and largest land holder.

Mr. Everett, sir. Emily tried to catch her teacher's attention, I was wondering if you were not too busy to come by our house tonight for supper? Mother always makes a fine feast on Friday evening.

Mr. Everett looked at her and smiled up from his desk, replacing his spectacles so that he could see her better. Um… sure, I mean, yes, that sounds fine, Emily. Should I be expected around—

Eight o'clock, sir.

Very well. I’ll see you and your family this evening. Thank you very much for the invitation. He looked at her with a warm smile. Emily did a small curtsey and turned around, walking past Dorothy again, who was now on her knees gathering her belongings.

Hum! Dorothy, that looks like the best place for you to be, Emily grumbled. Down on all fours cleaning up the messes respectable people make. She flung her golden locks over her shoulder and walked out of the room.

Dorothy sighed. Why can't she just leave me alone? she mumbled before finally getting to her feet with her few books and paper. A tear formed in the corner of her eye from the bully's remarks, and she slowly wiped it away. All year it was much of the same; Emily and her friends mocked or ridiculed her at their leisure. It wasn't right, but she had no time to worry about such matters; work was waiting at home.

Dorothy, may I see you for a moment? the teacher called for the girl, and Dorothy's head rose as she timidly turned around and met the cold eyes of the teacher. Slowly, leaving the books on the desk, but grabbing her picnic basket, she approached him at the front of the room.

Yes, sir? she said meekly, never having been held back before.

Dorothy, I am so sorry to hear about the passing of your Uncle Henry.

Yes, sir.

I understand you will be taking some time off from us here to care for your Auntie Em and the farm?

Yes, sir; we are going to try to make a go at it the best we can. It's all we can do.

The schoolmaster smiled down at the girl as if he was hoping her words rang true. I know you will. You are such a hard worker. Dorothy smiled. It is just as well. You just turned seventeen didn't you?

Eighteen actually, sir.

Well, there is little more I can teach you, not that I have been teaching you much lately. I just wanted to say that I have been so very proud of you over these last few years. You have really blossomed in your studies, and you were always at the top of the class. I sincerely don't know how I got along without you tutoring the smaller ones. Maybe when things calm down you can come back and continue as my assistant, he suggested.

Oh yes, maybe, sir.

Dorothy, I know this must be a trying time. Is there anything I can do?

She sighed as if trying to lift the weight of the world off of her shoulders. It was all she could do to not throw herself into his arms and cry her heart out, but she held firm as best she could. I don't think so, sir. You have done so much with your teachings and Auntie Em and I will make do. Dorothy forced a smile. Is there anything else you wanted to see me about?

Yes, one more thing. If you would take a seat. The teacher pointed at the desk closest to them, and Dorothy did as requested. She watched as the schoolmaster gazed around the room while collecting his thoughts. Finding his words, he continued. I’m missing a book from off the shelf here. This morning it was there and now it is not. Do you know anything about this?

The girl looked up at him with surprise. She had always found him a handsome man, only in his early twenties now, and felt so lucky that he was her teacher. William Everett was his name, but Dorothy only called him sir. A Northerner by region, he talked with a small accent not found in the rural Kansas countryside. He always dressed so professional, wearing an ironed shirt and black pants and coat on most days. Mr. Everett looked out of place compared to the poor farmers of the community and their ill clad children. This was one reason Dorothy liked him so much, an infatuation which grew from his first days at the school four years earlier, when she was just fourteen and he the young age of twenty. However, at this moment, she felt small and defenseless against his staring accusation.

Um, no, not making eye contact, I didn't take it.

Dorothy, that is not what I asked now, is it?

Her lips pulled together tight, and she looked down at the scuffed wooden floor, finally shaking her head.

Please hand over your basket, Dorothy, the teacher commanded, his hand reaching out.

As she handed it over, her face was overwhelmed with embarrassment, turning scarlet as her eyes continued their humbled gaze at the floor. He removed the red handkerchief and dug through her possessions. She felt like a common criminal as he pulled Uncle Tom's Cabin out from the bottom of the basket. Her lips puckered when he waved it in front of her.

I'm sorry sir, she said, again not making eye contact. I just know how much you like it.

Yes, it is my one of my favorites.

I'm sorry, she repeated, I was just going to borrow it. You always thought so much of it. I just wanted to learn more about the time period.

My father fought in the Civil War, many of the reasons this book talks about. It was not only to preserve this Union, but also to end the abomination of our nation. Do you know what I'm referring to, Dorothy?

Slavery?

Very good. This book reminds me that we as a nation had an unfortunate past, but the last generation sacrificed what they believed in to fix those problems, the schoolmaster said while walking back in forth in front of her. I also like to look at the general cognitive reasoning of the war. Is this something you understand?

No, sir.

Well, Dorothy, you are one of my brightest students. If you would for a moment, think of both sides of this war and you may learn a final lesson from me. You have a very bad South trying to dissolve this great nation, trying to break away and form a nation based on the sin of slavery. Do you understand so far, Dorothy?

Yes, sir.

Good. Tell me, what have you learned in church about those who are sinners?

They will not get into heaven? she asked more than answered, still staring at the floor.

That's correct. Being damned to hell punishes them. The North was forced to punish the South for its sins in the most humiliating way possible; it defeated her and made her submit to the will of God.

Yes, sir.

Even though the South fought back, resisted, and struggled away from what the North needed to do, in the end, it submitted to the will, the desire of the North to make her a better region. And because of its submission, it did get better, slavery ended, and the South is an improved place after the war. The North, too, is happy about what it needed to do with its Southern sister. Are you still following me?

Dorothy sniffled just a bit, Yes sir.

Mr. Everett placed his finger under the girl's chin and lifted it. Dorothy, look at me. The girl raised her head slowly to see Mr. Everett standing at his desk looking down at her. Punishment comes when we sin, and I believe you know stealing is a sin, is that correct? Dorothy nodded but didn’t say anything. And should a person be punished for stealing from someone else?

Taking a deep breath she replied, Yes, sir.

I thought you would agree with me. Now, I don't feel like turning this into a thievery case for the sheriff to deal with, so if you would, come up to my desk and take your punishment like the students do. She slowly rose from her desk and made her way forward— her hands clasped together, her nervousness growing stronger and stronger. Slowly, she raised them out in front of her, imitating what she remembered most of her classmates doing when they got their hands smacked with a ruler for their misdeeds. However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it was not a ruler Mr. Everett held, but the larger yardstick. Her mouth dropped open knowing her pain would be much worse than she previously thought.

Oh no, that will not do. Turn around and bend over my desk.

Wh-what?

You heard me, turn around and bend over, now, he said sternly. Stare at the wall ahead of you.

Dorothy slowly did as he requested. The desktop felt cold to her hands, and she couldn’t see what was happening behind her. Before she knew it, or could react, she felt the teacher pull up her dress from behind and begin to stuff it into her waistband meticulously. Slowly, his hands held her waist, moving, caressing, and pulling her undergarments until they were around her ankles. The cool air brushed against her naked cheeks as the humiliation ran deep throughout Dorothy's body, trembling with fear.