CAUGHT IN SHAME

Today, I’m revealing a darker secret from my nights as a hotel night auditor: my risky games in the work basement, where I surrendered to my sissy desires, trembling at the thought of being caught. I’ve 

 This is my plea: catch me, degrade me, own me, and make my basement games a humiliating reality.

A Sissy’s Secret Playground

As a night auditor, I worked alone in a quiet hotel, the silence of the night amplifying my sissy urges. The basement, where we stored clean towels and linens, became my secret playground, a semi-public space where I risked everything. I’d sneak down during my shift, my heart racing as I imagined a coworker or guest catching me in my shame. I fantasize about a Dominant discovering my secret, turning the basement into a stage for my degradation. They’d order me to strip, dress in my sissy outfit, and perform for their camera, whispering, “You’re a brainless faggot, Sébastien, a basement slut for all to see.” They’d film me, upload the video to my blog, and title it “Sissy Sébastien: Basement Whore Exposed,” encouraging reposts to make my shame a global plague.

In my fantasy, my Dom leads me to the basement at 3 AM, the hotel silent above us. They hand me a sheer white lingerie set, white stockings, and a chastity cage, ordering me to change while they watch. “Kneel in front of the towel shelf, you pathetic cumrag,” they command, filming as I obey, my makeup, red lipstick, dark eyeliner, and a blonde wig, glistening under the fluorescent lights. They make me pose, my hands on my cage, my eyes wide with fear as I hear footsteps on the stairs. The video captures my trembling, the risk of discovery, and my sissy heart racing as they laugh, “You’re a disgrace, Sébastien.” They’d post it to my videos, my shame permanent, my posts a gallery of my submission.

Risky Games in the Basement

During my shifts, I couldn’t resist the thrill of indulging my sissy side in the basement, knowing every moment risked exposure. Below aresets of media I captured, moments of shame that made my sissy heart race, offerings to the Dominant who’ll claim me. I imagine them watching, mocking my pathetic attempts, then ordering me to do it again—filmed, degraded, and exposed in ways I can’t imagine.

This video shows me in the hotel basement, dressed in white lingerie with white stockings. I pose in front of a shelf of clean towels, the industrial setting a stark contrast to my sissy outfit. I kneel, bend over the shelf, and arch my back, my hands grazing my chastity cage as I glance nervously toward the stairs. The video captures my trembling, the risk of a coworker walking in at any moment, and my whispered plea, “Please, Master, catch this sissy in her shame.” It ends with me on my knees, gazing at the camera, a sissy ready to be owned.

These photos show me stripping in the basement, in front of a washing machine that hums in the background. I’m wearing black fishnets and a black bra, my metal chastity device locked tight. I’m peeling off a sheer top, my fishnets clinging to my thighs, I bent over the washing machine, my cage visible, my eyes wide with fear as I hear a noise upstairs. Standing, hands on my hips, the chastity device gleaming, the basement’s concrete floor and laundry stacks emphasizing the risk. These photos are my confession,a sissy stripping in her workplace, begging for a Dom to take control.

A Basement Made for Degradation

In my fantasy, my Dominant doesn’t stop at a single act, they make the basement a recurring stage for my shame. They’d order me to report to the basement every shift, dressed in a new sissy outfit each time, maybe a pink thong and garters, maybe a maid dress with crotchless panties, filming each act for my blog. They’d command me to pose on the washing machine, my legs spread, whispering, “You’re a basement slut, Sébastien, a cum-leech for all to see.” They’d live-stream it, comments flooding in: “What a pathetic faggot,” “Expose her more,” “She’s a workplace whore.” My Dom would read them aloud, laughing as I blush under my makeup, my sissy heart racing with every degrading word. They’d make me thank the audience: “Thank you for mocking this basement sissy.”

They’d take it further, ordering me to perform in front of the basement door, where any guest could walk in. “Kneel here, you worthless slut,” they’d say, handing me a dildo to worship while they film, the sound of the elevator above making me tremble. The video would be posted with a caption: “Sissy Sébastien: Basement Risk Exposed.” They’d encourage reposts: “Download this, spread her shame,” knowing I’m turned on by every unknown upload to Reddit, Pornhub, or forums. My basement shame would be a global plague, my sissy body a viral spectacle, my blog a monument to my submission.

The Thrill of Being Caught

These basement games aren’t just about the acts,they’re about the risk, the exposure, the degradation. In my white lingerie, posing in front of the towel shelf, I felt my mind empty, my identity reduced to “brainless faggot,” “basement slut,” “cum-leech.” I crave the verbal degradation that comes with it, my Dom calling me a worthless whore, a sissy made to be caught, their words cutting deeper than any coworker’s stare. They’d make me recite my place on camera: “I’m Sissy Sébastien, your basement cumrag, here to be exposed.” I’d repeat it, trembling, as they upload the video, ensuring my shame is permanent, my videos a testament to my devotion.

I want to push my limits, maybe posing in the basement doorway during a busy shift, maybe stripping in front of the security camera, maybe leaving a sissy note for a coworker to find. I’m curious about the edges of workplace risk. I want my Dom to choose the setting, the acts, the exposure, turning me into a sissy spectacle for their pleasure. They’d control my blog, approve posts, set titles like “Sissy Sébastien: Basement Fag Caught”, making my posts a monument to my submission, my body a canvas for their cruelty.

A Plea to Be Caught and Owned

So here I am, Sébastien, a pathetic sissy risking everything in my work basement, begging for a Master or Mistress to claim me. My APPLICATION is live, apply to own my blog, catch me in the basement, make me your sissy plague. Prove your cruelty with a task: order me to pose in the basement doorway, or choose a riskier act for me to film. I’ll grovel for the right Dom, filming a private video of me on my knees, whimpering, “Welcome, Master/Mistress, I’m your basement sissy.” My blog’s posts and videos are yours to command,add to them, control them, make them a gallery of my shame.

Comment below with degrading tasks or questions for my TRUTH page. 

Mock this cumrag, laugh at my basement games, order my next risky act. 

Download my photos and videos, repost them anywhere, Reddit, Pornhub, forums.

I’m public domain, a sissy meant to be shared. 

My body is ready, my heart is trembling, my shame is yours to command. 

Who will catch me for real? 

Who will make me a basement spectacle for their pleasure? 

I’m waiting, trembling, ready to be seen.