Hell is other people

You can't imagine a worse fate than being a paraded pet in front of all your neighbors, but you bet Becca can...

"I'mmph goph fuh a walmph." You mumble droolingly to Samantha and Becca's sadistic squeals. Becca hands Samantha a matching cheerleader uniform to preserve her "modesty" and then leads you by the leash to the exposed expanse of your front lawn.

The sun shines too brightly, blinding you as it spotlights every inch of your shamefully supple sissy skin. You consider it a blistery blessing, keeping your head hung low too the ground, hoping against hope you can endure this walk without being discovered.

The sidewalk bites brutally into the soft skin of your knees and elbows. Becca and Samantha giggle greedily, drinking in your pants of pain. They saunter seductively at your side, leading step by agonizing step further into damnation. Worse still, whether do to the phallic plug pushing against your prostate, or the dizzying, delirious dread of exposure, your caged clitty is throbbing so humiliatingly hard, leaving a tell-tale trail of desperate dribbles.

Becca breaks your drooly daze cooing cruelly, "Ratsenheimer. This burg is totes deadsville. Still, I betty bet bets we find someone if we circle the block once. If I'm wrong, I'll set you free. But if you don't want to trend on Nextdoor, you could always crawl over to the neighbor's and see if he'll let you crawl through his doggy door."

Becca is offering you another agonizingly impossible choice. Do you risk being exposed to the entire block? Or do you rely on the kindness of neighbors?