A Sissy’s Darkest Fantasy The thought of an alleyway at night sends shivers down my spine, a dark, narrow space between buildings, lit only by flickering streetlights, where strangers pass by unaware of the sissy trembling in the shadows. I fantasize about a Dominant leading me there at midnight, my heart pounding as they order me to dress in a slutty outfit: a see-through top, a short skirt, stockings, high heels, a wig framing my face. They’d hand me a marker, commanding me to write “Alley Slut” across my chest, then film me as I step into the alleyway, my heels clicking on the pavement, my body exposed to the night air. “Walk for me, you pathetic faggot,” they’d sneer, their camera capturing my every move as I tremble, knowing a stranger could turn the corner at any moment. They’d upload the video to my blog, titling it “Sissy Sébastien: Alleyway Whore Exposed,” encouraging reposts to make my shame a global plague. In my fantasy, my Dom doesn’t stop at walking, they make me pose in ...