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I'm sure the author is working on it as she can. After all she did respond to someone's post.

Look up “hole tox” there’s a clinic in nyc that does it for like 1000 bucks, but it’s for anal sex. I don’t think they would give u enough to become incontinent. 

Can my display name be changed to "Elli D"? Please and thank you! 

47. My Unusual Routine Nothing noteworthy happened for the rest of the day. There was nothing creative to do in the office, just crunching numbers and making educated guesses at the probability that someone on my team would screw up. I thought that chance was pretty low; because I knew I would be driven to cover for anyone who was having problems. But there were so many different sets of numbers to deal with that I was glad to see the last of them. About the most interesting thing that happened all day was an overheard whisper between one of the junior staffers, a guy whose name I didn’t even remember, and Jessop on one of his sporadic visits. They were both at the coffee machine, which happened to be right outside my cubicle. Normally I would have tuned out the background noise, but I wanted to know what kind of mood my immediate superior was in. Just in case someone had passed an incriminating document up the chain where I had pretended to do so. In case he was disgusted with me, and I might be looking forward to a visit from the Elder Dragon. The coordinator of all staff on site, responsible for the emotional wellbeing of everyone in the Upper Ashfields site since its creation, rather than any specific project. No HR executive had ever been more feared than Bracewell, if the rumours were to be believed. You could learn everything you needed to know about our tyrant by the fact that her name was reserved for formal communications, lest she could be summoned by a casual mention. They weren’t talking about the tyrant, the dragon, or she who must not be named. There was no sign that Jessop had heard anything out of the ordinary. I was safe for now. But my boss seemed to be a little confused about another person whose name wasn’t to be spoken. He wanted to know if there was anyone on the staff known as MK, because he’d heard mention of MK getting a bonus payment in the form of expensive artisan cheeses being dispatched weekly to a hotel suite during his vacation. There wasn’t an MK in the office. I was sure Jessop could have checked that himself, but he didn’t know the nicknames of all the staff. James – I think it was James – was the kind of  brown-noser who would be able to fill in that information. And Jessop ended his coffee break in just as much confusion as he had started. Of course, the break was followed by him leaving the building with a steaming hot cup of coffee. That was probably all the face-time he could put up with for today. I half wished that he had spoken to me instead, because I might have been able to earn a little more respect with an answer to his question. I didn’t think the elusive MK was any of our creatives, but I could think of one person it could have been. I would certainly have to mention that conversation to Ffrances when I got home. Clocking out time couldn’t come soon enough for me. I spent an extra five minutes double checking my work, so that I would be confident in marking it all complete. And then I was walking around the park again, back to where I had left my truck on Ash Crescent. The drive home was relaxing, taking the opportunity to cruise through some of the more rural surroundings. Perhaps that was a little self-indulgent, but I didn’t see a problem with letting myself relax occasionally. I wasn’t stressed at all by the weekend’s events; everything had gone well. There was nothing I needed to take my mind off, and I was honestly looking forward to see if there was still any trace of childish behaviour in my cousin. But at the same time, I felt like it would be good to have just a little time to myself. A break between the stresses of work and the joy of spending time with my family. When I arrived home my Mistress was playing the motherly role, frying something that smelled heavenly, and my little was probably still on the bus back from school. “Does MK like cheese?” I asked. “Kernigan?” she answered without hesitation, confirming my guess with a single word. “Hell yes. You won’t get him at a convention without a cheeseboard. It’s his condition for doing any kind of panel, and it always has to be local. You know he really appreciated it when one of the cheeses gets namedropped in his comics.” “I thought so,” I said, with just a quiet grin. That was when Tess came in, and we exchanged the usual pleasantries before she headed up to her room to divest herself of her school uniform and books. “So when did you become a fangirl?” Ffrances picked up the prior conversation as if the topic had never changed. “The last time we were going over the comics you just kept calling him ‘the author’.” “Not so much a fan. I just heard a third hand rumour. The guy I heard it from wanted to know who MK was. I thought I’d seen the name Maurice Kernigan on all those comics, and I wondered if it could be him. Apparently Claughton International are treating MK to a selection of rare cheeses, delivered to the penthouse suite at the Birmingham Grand. And that’s a pretty fancy hotel for anyone I’d be hearing rumours about. Sounds like they’ve still got him on retainer.” “Wow. So they’re making another one? Tags 2 already in planning, when the general public only gets to see the first one next week?” “That’s my guess,” I agreed. “But you know better than me what the next movie might be. I wondered if they might have that guy with the burned hand in; he seemed to be carrying the story on his own in the last couple I read. I was surprised he didn’t make it to the screen.” “Too complex. I mean, yeah, he’s iconic. But there’s like two different versions of the character, and all the hardcore fans would be up in arms if you chose either of them. If you’ve not seen Dark Lamprey yet, I know exactly which story I have to show you next.” This time, we were too deep in conversation to change the subject when Tess came down again. She joined in as soon as we had explained what we were thinking; she’d probably read about as many of Kernigan’s comics as I had now, with Ffrances trying to get us both involved in her obsession, but we’d each taken different paths into the huge canon based on which parts we found most interesting. Now we had very different impressions. At some point we were all going to be surprised by the next big plot twist, and I was just starting to regret that I hadn’t picked up this hobby from my girlfriend as soon as she started trying to introduce me. It would have been the perfect opportunity to continue the same conversation as we watched another of the old movies, discussing how the characters had changed between the comics and the screen. But unfortunately today Ffrances needed to be home before long. I would see her again soon enough, but I knew I would still miss her.

50. One Step Back Tess woke up again, and even before turning the alarm off her first thought was to check her diaper. It had been going on for long enough that it was a habit now. It was dry, and she allowed herself a little smile. She didn’t get all excited about it like the day before, but she could take it as a little proof that she wasn’t a baby any longer. Or that this episode in her life was going to be wrapped up soon; every dry night in a row increased the probability that it would never happen again. She sat up, silenced the alarm, stretched, and then reached for her phone. She picked it up before the second alarm even started, but she knew she still needed to start moving quickly. That was one of the disadvantages of living so far from the school. She was going to see if there was any news from her friends; anything she needed to reply to, or a reminder of events at school that might have slipped her mind. There was no way that an exam or presentation would have gone past without someone stressing about it, or a wish of good luck from one of her friends. “Morning, how’s things baby girl?” she read the words, and all other thoughts slipped from her mind. Why was somebody calling her that? Tess stared at the screen for a long minute, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. It was the kind of insult she’d heard a hundred times at previous schools, and there were still some people at Raybridge High who thought it was funny to call her a baby. But her friends knew how much she hated any reference to her small size, and none of them would ever say that. And it wasn’t exactly easy to find someone on Clatter, not unless you were both looking for each other. That was kind of the point; it was a space for friends old and new, not for being stalked by people you wanted to distance yourself from. But eventually she managed to fight back the shock and tap further, to see who could have spoken to her like that. The message was from grandiel. Not a name she was familiar with, but someone she’d spoken to on a few occasions. A trombone player, if she remembered correctly, and he’d complimented her on a video she shared of a recital. He’d never said anything like that before. “Don’t call me baby,” she punched in the line and sent it right away, a direct response. That would show how irritated she really was, even if it was visible to all their mutual friends and anyone who could see the original line as well. The screen pulsed once and then there was already a message waiting for her. Two messages, and then three. From friends, online and in the real world. Nobody she was really close to, but they were all saying the same thing. That yesterday morning, she had said that she didn’t mind being called a baby. Tess was about to respond with an angry line that she would never have said that. That she hated being called a baby more than anything else. But then she remembered the day before. She’d been so excited about waking up dry. She’d been proud of it, like really proud, even though it was the norm. She should have wondered about that, but at the time it hadn’t seemed unusual at all. Thinking back now, she wondered if it could have been a side-effect of using hypnosis to avoid wetting the bed. Ffrances had told her that the suggestion might make her feel proud of it, because it was easier to do something like that with an emotional involvement. She’d been feeling so proud that she had said something stupid without meaning to. That was entirely possible, especially when she thought about how much Gabby had done to herself without meaning to. Under hypnosis it was entirely possible to make a mistake without even realising. “I must have been tired,” she answered. Then changed it to “drunk” and back again a few times. Which would sound best to a bunch of people she barely knew anything about? After thinking way too long, she swapped out for a meme about an annoying cousin swiping her phone. It would shield her from any further mockery, and she was pretty sure that none of these people would know much about her living situation, so they would probably buy it. She added the comment “/nj/stg” and hoped that the assault on her most vulnerable point would be over. She’d taken way too long to resolve that. When she took a step in the direction of the bathroom, the smell of frying bacon was already drifting up the stairs. No time for a quick shower this morning even if it was a world record time. But she didn’t really need one today, so she buttoned up her shirt and hurried down the stairs, glad to arrive just as the food was ready. Ffrances wasn’t here today, she remembered. Gabby asked a few questions over breakfast, but seemed to give up quickly when all she got was a noncommittal grunt. Tess was too deep in her own thoughts, trying to work out what she could change, and what she should do. If the pride after she used that trigger phrase to stay dry was enough to overcome her usual self-control and make her say something dumb, she should probably use it less often. But at the same time, she knew that if she couldn’t rely on it, it would be even more embarrassing. How else was she supposed to get over her problem once and for all? Eventually, she decided that it must have been a mixture of careless wording and relief when she found that it worked. A few days before she’d been more embarrassed than ever to wake up wet, and Gabby had been happy to torment her about it. Her hand became a fist where it gripped her fork, even just remembering those feelings. But she couldn’t really complain now. She had teased Gabby an awful lot when she’d become a baby, and that might even have been why the experience was soured for her. It was only fair to allow Gabby the same freedom in her teasing. Tess should learn to get used to it, rather than exploding every time she heard those words. And then soon after, she’d woken up dry and posted on Clatter before she was fully awake. She’d probably said something like not caring about being called a baby girl because she knew better; but she knew how easy it could be to take one word out of context in the vast influx of messages early in the morning. She could understand being misunderstood. “I said, is something wrong?” Gabby asked, and Tess raised her head again. She must have looked blank, because Gabby felt it necessary to explain: “You’ve been pushing an imaginary piece of toast around an empty plate for two minutes. Lost in memory lane, are you?” “Oh, just something… I said something dumb yesterday. Wondering what I can do.” “Well, I don’t know what the dumb thing was, but it probably wasn’t as bad as you think. And trying to deny it, or weaving a tapestry of lies around it, will probably end up with someone calling you out sooner or later. It always does, and lies never stay simple. I say that no matter what the mistake was, it’s better to own it. Show them that you can move past your mistakes, so everyone knows, and if they keep getting bent out of shape over it that’s their problem.” “I guess,” Tess mumbled, but she kind of knew that Gabby was right. She did look younger than her friends. She was shorter. She had a baby face. She was going to keep on getting the same jokes until her body realised what shape it was supposed to be, and that could be years. Letting it get to her wasn’t going to help her. And as much as she hated to admit it, she hadn’t really minded when it was Gabby teasing her a little. Embarrassing, sure, but she knew it was fair. It was only turning around the same things she’d said to baby Gabby, things that she shouldn’t have said if she didn’t want them coming back to her. On that day, she’d been able to find an excuse to put up with it instead of getting mad. And when she did, it hadn’t hurt at all. She didn’t know if that kind of teasing was going to be a regular thing; she hoped not. But it didn’t actually hurt, when she knew that Gabby had a reason for it. Perhaps if she looked for the reasons, she could get over one of her hangups and there would no longer be something she hated. Not to mention, of course, that she was looking forward to the next time Ffrances was the token adult. Even if being a baby wasn’t her thing; even if it had gone way too far; she still loved the idea of diving into a hypnosis-fuelled fantasy. And as long as Gabby wanted to be smaller, Tess could ask to join in. Just for solidarity with her cousin, she didn’t need to admit her real motives. It just gave her an excuse to explore something that she was really curious about. “Time to go, I think,” she said, getting up from her seat. “Look, thanks. But I need to get to the bus soon, and I can take care of the problem myself. Don’t worry about it.” “I know. You’re a smart girl. I might be in town this afternoon. Do you want me to pick you up, save you the tedious bus ride?” “I’m fine. It’s not that bad, anyway. I made a friend on the bus, so we can chat on the way. Or play dumb games on my phone, you know the kind of thing.” “Sure. Thought a little bit of comfort might be good, but it’s probably awkward if I don’t know the exact time. No big deal, right? It’s a slow ride, but not that slow. You’re not going to have an accident on the bus. Are you?” “Gabby!” Tess blushed, her face a beetroot again. “You don’t need to say things like that. It’s only at bedtime, remember?” But Gabby was giggling again, and Tess couldn’t think of a good way to respond to that. She just let it drop, and hurried to get ready for school.