Small Town ENF Adventure

Dixie Jackson rolled her new smart phone in her hand, her father had asked why she needed a fancy phone when the only internet on the Jackson Ranch for miles around was in the house, but Dixie had plans for her new gadget that she could never tell her dad about. She played with the settings on the phone to confirm it would do exactly what she wanted and before long her plan became fully formed.

The first part of the plan was to take the naughtiest picture she could of herself, she knew this picture would have to be the kind she would do anything to prevent falling into the wrong hands. The thought of that alone gave her more than enough joy to start her ordeal. Dixie went to her shed and prepared the worst she could look.

She set up her phone leaning against a stool in the corner of one of the horse stables and opened up an app she had downloaded that would let her take pictures through voice command. Dixie stripped and began by rolling in the hay, she wasn't looking to be covered in mud or anything that would obscure her body, just a fine coating a dust and dry mud, with the occasional piece of straw clinging to her exposed body to make her look degraded. Next she fetched a nice thick pen with which to write on her skin, in big black letters she wrote the words "Horse Cock Whore" across her torso. Next she got ahold of something she had prepared earlier, two clothes pegs attached to lengths of string. She attached the pegs to her labia, one on each side, before measuring out the string just right, and tying the other end to her respective toes. In this way she could pull her pussy open by spreading her legs. Finally she took her position and whistled.

Dixie's horse was often an unwilling accomplice in her self-inflicted predicaments and so had learned to put up with her weird behaviour and follow her command. As he returned to his stable, he found his food had been placed in the far corner for some reason, and his owner was sat beneath it. Gingerly the horse moved around Dixie and began to eat, meanwhile his penis swung into position beside Dixie just as she had planned. Dixie hugged the horse cock close to her body, spread her legs wide to reveal all of herself to her phone ordered the camera to take a pictures for as long as the horse was there, reasoning that at least one of them would do for her purposes.

Later that night, as Dixie looked through the pictures she realised what a state she looked, she saw herself spreading and pleading with the camera and knew she would do whatever it took to not let this photo get seen by anyone she knew, and that would make the next day's adventure something to remember.

...

About twenty miles from Dixie's house was the town of Fort Nimrod. The township was the nearest slice of civilisation to the ranch mainly serving as an amenities centre for the nearby farms and their workers, so there wasn't much to it beyond the schoolhouse, library, shops and bar. There were a few homes and hostels for those passing through and a couple of museums dotted around the outside of the fort that the town had been built around.

To start her adventure Dixie went to the library on the far end of town to ensure that there was a change of clothes hidden at the back in one of the private reading rooms that she (and only she) regularly frequented. She also made sure to leave the emergency exit round the back unlocked so she could sneak in without the librarian seeing her. Next she went to the fort to prepare.

Dixie had kept a close eye on the time for the whole drive down, if she wanted this to work her timing would have to be perfect, she arrived at the fort at 10:00am. As always the fort was empty as no matter what they did nobody ever wanted to go on a weekday. The fort was your standard civil war fort, with a series of walls, with small buildings built into them surrounding a central courtyard. Dixie went to a small tower at the back that she had picked out for her starting point. The tower had been used in the past to light signal fires, and she had decided that today she was going to light a fire of her own. High above the township people will see the fire lit, not knowing that the fire had been started using every stitch of fabric Dixie had on.

Staring at the signal fire pit, Dixie had to do one last piece of preparation, firstly she checked her phone and confirmed that indeed there was no internet signal in fort Nimrod. On her phone was an app connected to her email, it allowed her to customise an email based on what time it was sent out. She brought up her email, selected every name in her address book and set up an email to go to them. If the email was sent between 12:00 and 12:10 the attachment would be an invite to the Jackson family's annual BBQ. However if the email was sent outside of that window the attachment would be the degrading picture she took the previous night.

She clicked send, without internet the email just waited in the outbox, however Dixie knew the moment she reached the library the phone would connect to the library's WiFi and the email would be sent. For good measure she had also set alarms at those times so she would know when she was in that window. This way she couldn't rush her naked walk across town but without knowing the time she would inevitably have to take some risks when she heard the first alarm. She then took some saran wrap and duct tape and used it to fasten the phone tight to her arm, making sure it wasn't coming off until she could get her hands on some scissors.

Finally Dixie had decided that she would wear a mask. Fort Nimrod a small town that Dixie regularly visited, she was certain if her face was seen she would be instantly recognised and word would spread quickly. It had taken a while to pick just the right mask for this adventure, but in the end she had chosen a full head Hillary Clinton mask in the hope that a rural town in Texas would see if as some sort of statement.

Finally, her hands shaking with anticipation, Dixie began to remove her clothes and one by one place them in the signal fire pit. This was the part she loved most, her last vestiges of sanity pleading with her not to go past the point of no return as she geared up for a new adventure. She started with her shoes and socks, shivering as her bare feet touched the dusty ground.

She pulled off the T-shirt her father had bought her with "Federal Booty Inspector" written in big letters across the front and threw it into the pit, she was looking forward to watching that burn. The familiar warm breeze of Texas hit her exposed torso as she began to pull down the colourful jeans that had been given to her by an aunt in California that the family didn't like to talk about.

Dixie was now just in her least favourite underwear staring at the fire pit. The back of her mind was still telling her that it wasn't too late, that she could still pick the clothes up, get dressed and go home without going through this madness. Dixie stroked her mostly naked body to silence the voice, and unclipped her bra. As she threw the bra into the pit, Dixie caught how stiff her nipples were, she reach down south with her and to see if her panties also reflected her excitement. She had to peel her sodden knickers away from her pussy and with a quivering hand threw them on the pile.

Standing naked staring at her clothes, Dixie was now aware that her only possessions were the phone attached to her arm, a bottle of lighter fluid and a pack of matches. Another breeze rolled over Dixie's naked body, tickling each and every goosebump, sending shivers of delight into her core and temporary silencing the voice of doubt. She emptied the bottle of lighter fluid on her clothes and struck the match, and took a moment to stare at the flames.

Dixie's mind was racing. Part of her was pleading with her not to go through with this, that she could still wear the lighter fluid sodden clothes. But that voice was drowned out by her overwhelming animal urges. She let out a shiver and a moan as she relaxed her hand and let the match fall into the pit. There was an almighty whoosh as her clothes went up in flames and Dixie was trapped in the ordeal of her own creation.

Dixie gave herself a moment to soak in the experience of what she had done, feeling her body quiver as heat from the fire licked her naked skin. Suddenly the reality of the situation hit her like a brick. She was stood naked next to a signal fire designed to be seen by the whole town. Dixie immediately dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to the stairs to ensure nobody would see her.

Heading down the stairs she thought through the route she was going to take before realizing that she hadn't checked the time before she started. She knew she had pulled up to the fort at about 10 o'clock but she was so awash in the thrill of what she was doing she didn't know how quickly she had prepared, whether she had to rush or take it slow. She squealed a little to herself as she carried on down the tower stairs.

As Dixie got to the bottom of the tower, she peeked out to the courtyard, and seeing the way was clear, made a dash for the front entrance. As she approached the front entrance she heard the din of a small crowd, thinking fast she ducked into one of the small sheds near the entrance and hid among an exhibit on civil war medicine, peering out of a gap in the shed's wooden walls. She looked out in horror as she saw a crowd of twenty or so school children approaching the front gate being shepherded by a single teacher.

Dixie immediately recognised the teacher as Miss Throckmorton, she had been the Grade two teacher at Fort Nimrod Elementary school for decades and was now pushing seventy. Everyone Dixie knew, her friends and her family, had once been taught by Miss Throckmorton and she still knew everyone. Dixie swore to herself, of all the days for her former teacher to plan a school trip she had to choose today. Miss Throckmorton lifted her clipboard up to her half rim glasses, and with a voice that cut through the air like a hawk began to read the register.

Dixie knew it would not be long before the kids would descend on the fort, but there was only one way in and out and it was currently filled with second graders. Dixie could have found a place to hide and wait it out, but then her picture would definitely be emailed to everyone on her email list (which included Miss Throckmorton.) Eventually Dixie resigned herself to an early defeat, she would wait for the children to begin wandering the fort and when it looked like she would be seen by the fewest people she would make a run for it.

At last Miss Throckmorton finished the register and let the children begin to walk the fort. Dixie had a minor stroke of luck that most children wanted to head straight to the now lit signal fire and so didn't venture towards her shed. However the biggest obstacle was that Miss Throckmorton hadn't moved. The wily teacher had realised long ago that of she stayed by the only exit, she could let the kids wander and be sure not to lose any. Dixie felt a heavy weight form deep in her stomach knowing her second grade teacher was about to see her naked.

There were a couple of kids wandering the courtyard and one had stayed with Miss Throckmorton by the door and was holding her hand. Dixie was working up the courage and waiting for the optimal moment to make a dash for it, her legs were like jelly and willing herself out of the shed was an uphill struggle. Suddenly Dixie Saw the shed fill with light. She heard a little boy begin to yell and all of a sudden the decision was taken out of her hands and she found herself running.

There were more kids in the courtyard than Dixie could have seen through the gap in the shed and each yell or burst of laughter cut through her like a knife. As she approached the door the world seemed to go into slow motion as Miss Throckmorton's face went from shock, to disgust and then to anger.

"Young lady what on Earth do you think you are doing!" The aging teacher yelled as Dixie sprinted towards her. Under her Hillary mask Dixie's eyes filled with tears as her teacher took in the full measure of her humiliation. As she approached the door Miss Throckmorton reacted faster than any seventy year old should and was able to give Dixie one clean hard swat on her bottom with her clipboard as Dixie ran past.

Once out of the fort Dixie now had to traverse the small car park and quickly find somewhere to hide and regroup, all the while the laughing and jeering of children rang in her ears. The car park quickly gave way to the High Street and Dixie did not like the idea of being naked in the busiest area of the town, and so without thinking she went to the far corner and jumped over the fence, choosing to take her chances with whatever was there over Miss Throckmorton and her class.

Dixie landed with a heavier thud than she was expecting, in a garden with chairs and tables laid out all around, as well as a small children's playground. She immediately recognised the beer garden of The Rusty Spur, the only bar in town. Dixie immediately had flashbacks to the evenings she had spent in this garden, playing with other children while their parents got drunk inside. The good news for Dixie was that between 10:00 and 12:00 on a weekday the bar was not busy, the bad news is that it wasn't empty.

Dixie only had a couple of seconds to catch her breath before the bar patrons had noticed her. She looked to the fence and realised that the garden was sunken into the ground, deliberately making the fence taller and unclimbable from the inside to stop patrons skipping out on the tab. This meant that Dixie's only option was to run through the bar and out the front door, her worries about the main road completely forgotten over the worries of the small group of patrons who had begun to approach her. She knew all these men, they were friends of her parents who had known her since she was a baby. However where previously they had always been courteous, now they were leering at her naked body and making moves to grab the defenceless Dixie. Luckily for Dixie they were all aging alcoholics and so she was able to run past them faster than they could react.

She got into the bar and her pace slowed for a second while her eyes adjusted to the light. There were a few more patrons in here and once again Dixie had to make peace with more circles of family friends seeing her naked body. She made a run for the front door, however dread and horror washed over her as she saw the bartender get there first. With practiced efficiency he took out his keys and locked the door trapping Dixie in the bar.

The bartender of the rusty spur was a similar age to Dixie. At school he thought he was God's gift to women, not noticing that the only reason the girls flirted with him was that his parents owned the bar and he had access to alcohol. Dixie shamefully remembered how she was one of those girls and that flirting with this slime ball was the worst part of getting booze.

"Hey look everyone, Hillary Clinton has decided to visit our bar!" The bartender yelled in triumph, grabbing Dixie by the shoulder. Dixie instinctively grabbed the bottom of her mask, getting ready for the fight to not be exposed. However the bartender was good at reading people, and the fact that Dixie was preserving her identity, rather than covering her body, spoke volumes to him and gave him an idea.

"I'll tell you what Hillary. There's only two ways I'm unlocking this door and letting you out. Either you take off that mask and show us who you really are, or I'll give you a couple of pitchers of beer, and you give all my patrons a top up from the comfort of their laps." Dixie's general distaste for the bartender moved into outright hatred as the pompous slime ball smiled smugly at his idea. Dixie knew that she would never live it down if everyone knew it was her, so her only option was to walk to the bar and wait patiently for him to pour a couple of pitchers of beer.

After what seemed like forever Dixie had the two pitchers, and turned to the nearest patron. She recognised the man as Old Joe, a close friend of the family who always had the best jokes and the funniest accents. As a kid she had always enjoyed this kindly old man and his funny stories, now he sat leering and beckoning her, his erection clearly visible through his jeans.

Dixie slowly lowered herself onto Old Joe's lap, she could feel the rough denim against her naked skin, his erection poking into her exposed bottom. As soon as she had sat down, Old Joe repositioned himself, forcing Dixie further onto his lap and allowing his erection to press against her exposed pussy. His arms also found themselves wrapped around the helpless naked woman, as he began to play with her breasts. Dixie was grateful for the cheers of the bar, as the covered the sound of her moaning with delight and embarrassment at the humiliation she was being put through. She poured Joe another pint, and felt his gnarled hands caress her whole body as she stood up to find the next patron.

Dixie's mind was swam as she went from one randy old man to the next, none of them aware that it was Dixie, the little girl they had known since childhood, that they were now lusting over. Dixie poured every pint and felt every errand hand caressing her naked body and every erection running against her as she lowered herself onto each lap in turn. By the time she was finished her pussy was throbbing, begging for a release, but she couldn't let the bar know the effect they had had on her.

"One last thing before you go Hillary!" The bartender yelled as Dixie returned to the bar. "How about a commemorative photo out front?" Before she knew it Dixie was being ushered out front by all the patrons of the bar, the bartender leading the way with his camera. Dixie burst into the sunlight and onto the High Street. The town was fairly quiet but that didn't stop the occasional passer-by from staring in disbelief at the spectacle.

"Now don't forget gentlemen, if at any point Hillary doesn't do what I say, I want you to rip off her mask." The bartender yelled above the din. This managed to cut through the fog in Dixie's mind and once again the world snapped into focus.

"How about we start with Hillary pointing at the bar the way a fancy showgirl would?" Dixie took a step forward, raised one hand into the air towards the bar sign while placing the other on her hips, her leg bending behind her keeping her exposed breasts prominently jutting out in front of her. The sound of clicks let Dixie know that the bartender's camera was busy capturing every moment.

"That's good but the pose doesn't really show off your pussy. I know, how about you sit on the floor, with your legs spread eagle?" Dixie obeyed and opened her legs wide while the chuckling behind her continued.

"You're a bit low down, I'm struggling to get you and the sign in. How about this, Joe you take her left leg, Bob you take her right, and Billy you hold her ass so she is held up with her legs wide apart. Next Ray, you get underneath her and you hold her pussy open." The formally bumbling old men became the vision of military precision as they followed the bartender's instructions to give Dixie maximum exposure as the camera continued to click away, Dixie squirmed and moaned and while then old men mistook it for resistance, it was in fact delighting in the glorious embarrassment she was going through. Eventually the bartender signalled that he was done and Dixie was put down.

"Thanks for the fun, you may now go back to what you were doing. But may I point out we were honourable men who kept our pledge to not remove your mask, so if you ever want to come back and have fun with us again we'll be happy to continue to let you keep your identity a secret." Had Dixie been in her right mind she would have balked at the idea of doing this again, however at this moment she was a slave to her desires and she was genuinely considering returning one day.