Dorothy had grown a young woman. But her childhood fetish remained.
On her glove, a grain of sand from the deadly desert. Shaking, she touched her pointy nipple.
Groping herself, moaning, she felt her bust crack and crumble like wet sand.
She grasped between her legs, dug her fingers deep, then plowed even deeper into her transforming depths.
She felt everything! Her insides changed, her last heartbeat. Then sand on her tongue. Her tongue became sand!
In front of her eyes, her fingers crumbled and fell apart.
Screaming, she came so hard, she burst her into an unrecognizable sand pile.