The Faux Pas

 So what I'll emphasize first is this: nobody died. Nobody was injured, maimed, incapacitated, or hospitalized. If anyone was close to dying, it was me, because I was seriously considering how bad it would really be if I just stepped into a raging kitchen fire and went up in smoke. I wanted to pirouette into a conflagration so hot there would be no evidence that I ever existed. This is not a true morbid ideation of mine, but sometimes my need to evaporate not only myself, but everyone's collective memory of myself, is so acute that I actually start looking for ways to make it happen. That's how I felt with my little 'faux pas' that you all are asking about.

I guess a little better than going out in a blaze of shameful anti-glory isn't a wish as good as the wish to be able to turn back time. When it all started happening, that's what I could have used the most. Not a teleporter from Star Trek, not a Greek funeral pyre, not a mass amnesia machine like they have in Men In Black. Nope. What I needed instead was a little watch or a Staples 'easy' button to give little TrishaTwinkleToes a do-over. Maybe I could send a quantum text to my phone in the past and send an all-caps message saying "HEY DO YOU KNOW WHO THE REAL DOM IS??? IT'S MURPHY'S FUCKING LAW."

That's a little vague, I know. Little Trisha doesn't want to spoil the story for those few who weren't there to witness my shame, my big absolute no-no. It's content this way. Monetizing my humiliation has always been the point of this account, hasn't it? That's why you follow me, isn't it? It's a stupid fetish, this shared interest of ours. From day one, long ago when I was an even littler Trisha, barely old enough to fap with the internet's aid, I knew this was all whack. Which isn't to say I belong somewhere else. No-no. Stupid is as stupid does. Filming my diapered 24/7 life for subscribers is absolutely my highest calling, though I'm not trying to knock those esteemed compatriots of mine who aren't as stupid as I am. Anyway...what I mean to say this is a stupid fetish because I 100% wish this story never happened, yet meanwhile, 100% of the time I think about this story, I get omega horny. I really mean it; I get randier than a bucketful of rabbits in Spring. There's a magic wand on my couch because I can't watch a movie without my pussy hijacking my brain. It's like...turn the stove off and hump a pillow kind of horny. It's like, forgetting to shower kind of horny. It's rubbing my nipples at a stop-light kind of horny.

Yeah, I did that yesterday. I don't think the couple in the car next to me noticed. Hey, at least I'm not imagining some bearded Peloponnesian geezer putting gold coins on my eyes before lighting the tower of wood and coal beneath me.

This is all good for my lovely fans, of course. Every day I have a coffee, and sometime after, my diaper gets full. Based on the DMs I get daily, I'm only one of hundreds with a similar routine. Y'all need Jesus almost as much as me. But usually (I guess this might disappoint some of you), I AT MOST snap a few pics, and then get to the shower. Your girl still enjoys herself from time to time, but little Trisha has come to recognize rumbling in a tummy as strictly business. But now? Can't stop. Can't stop won't stop no matter how dirty it is. It's like this kink is all brand new again.

Brand new. Completely repackaged. Same old smell, same old desire to chuck it all away in the trash can for something a bit less ridiculous.

Don't get worried folks. I'll be sticking around, despite everything.

So. If LittleTrishaTwinkleToes did have her magic clock and could travel and get a redo, she'd go all the way back, months before the Con. Yup. I would have not agreed to do the scene when we negotiated it. I would have stepped up and said: "You know what, Mark, this is a great scene, and you're a great dom. In fact, you're one of the best doms I've ever scened with, and I don't just say that to every client. I mean you're a top-notch respectful Daddy who knows how to get a lass like me...clean. Oh, yes you do Mr. Mark. Daddo. Daddington Primo. But here's the thing, dad. See, you didn't realize that another dom slipped into the negotiation. He's going to be there when we've past the point of no return and I'm dancing for you in that special way you like. He'll come through the ceiling, months from now, at the con, and he'll work his magic. Yup, he's very hard to see, but he'll dom you too, without consent. His name is Murphy and if we carry on with this scene, we'll be subject to his Law."