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Summary: After going through a traumatic childhood, Willa needs help. She's unknowingly admitted to Little Beginnings where she's going to have the chance to have the childhood she should've had (whether she wants to or not). ooOoo Chapter 1: “W-Willa…Willa Carolan,” the young girl stuttered. Her chocolate brown eyes focused on the black and white tiled floor as the receptionist typed upon the keyboard. She was the only one in the waiting room which she supposed made her feel a little better. She did not do well with interaction. The thought of even coming to therapy terrified her as she had never been before. She clenched her clammy hands into fists and counted backwards in her mind, trying to calm the beating of her heart. Suck it up. She thought. Plenty of people go to therapy. There was nothing to be worried about. That’s what she tried to tell herself. But she wasn’t so sure. She could barely talk to another person without stuttering or wanting to puke. How could she manage an hour long session? The whole point of therapy was to talk and she couldn’t even do that. “You can just take a seat in the chair right over there.” the woman smiled at Willa, finally having stopped typing. “Dr. Tischner will be out shortly.” Slightly nodding her head in thanks, she quickly scattered to the furthest corner in the small room away from the woman. With her knees pressed against her chest, she rested her head on them, taking in deep and rapid shallow breaths, ignoring the stack of magazines on the tiny table beside her. Willa didn’t know why she even agreed to come to this. She had managed to avoid it for the past ten years, silently suffering, never going out unless absolutely necessary. She was only twenty years old, had no friends, no job, and anxiety that riddled her mind and body. Adrian, her older brother was the one who supported her but she had a feeling he wanted her out of his home. His crazy ex- girlfriend of three years had just left and was still traumatized by... by everything. Willa thought his message was pretty clear when he scheduled the appointment himself and drove her, escorting her as far as the front door then leaving. She was pissed, rightfully so, that he would just abandon her like that. They were best friends. They had been for all of their lives. Even though her brother was five years older, they understood each other like no one else. She could count on him for everything. She didn’t have to hide away. They were exactly the same in everything from their caramel skin, eyes, round face and thick curly black hair. People would confuse them for twins because of how much they looked alike. So, yes, it hurt when he just dumped her at the building. He didn’t even say when he would be back and the unknown was what scared her the most. “Willa Carolan?” a new voice echoed throughout the room. Shooting her head up, a blonde haired woman dressed in a pink cashmere sweater and light jeans stood at the door with a clipboard. She looked to be about forty years old. Some lines were visible on her milky white skin but from afar she didn’t look to be over twenty five. On trembling legs, Willa walked across the room, ducking her head at the woman’s kind smile and followed her through the brown door into a small room. Sitting down on the lumpy grey couch, she examined everything around her. The walls were painted a mustard yellow and there was one small window which was the only light in the room. In front of her was a coffee table and a chair on the other side. An icy glass of water and a bowl of mints was situated in front of her. Her hand twitched, wanting to take a sip to cool her parched throat but she held off. Willa didn’t want to get too comfortable. She didn’t want to let her guard down. “It’s small, I know.” Willa jumped, turning to stare at the woman. The door shut and suddenly the two of them were alone. She sat down across from Willa with the clipboard and pen in her hand. Her blue eyes gleamed in curiosity. “I’m Dr. Tischner,” she said, her voice was low. Without realizing it, Willa slowly found herself relaxing at the woman’s soft tone. it was almost maternal, something she hadn't heard in many years. “You must be Willa. I believe it was your brother that set up the appointment, yeah?” Willa nodded her head. She kept her mouth shut, still inclined not to speak. Her foot tapped against the black carpet. Her eyes darted every which way, determined not to look at the doctor. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk. We can just answer, yes or no questions.” she waved her hand. “Everyone reacts differently to therapy so there is no one way to feel or act. It’s normal to be nervous or afraid. I like to go at the patient's pace. If you’re uncomfortable with any of my questions we can just move on. Does that seem fair?” Her eyebrows furrowed together, taking in what she said. Willa was not one to bare her soul to people, especially strangers. It was a relief to hear her say that because she didn’t know if she would ever be ready to share what happened. Willa nodded her head once again. It did seem fair. Looking down at her clipboard, she began to speak. “I just want to clarify a few things, first. Your report says that you are twenty years old; full name is Willa Jean Carolan; and that you were born November 12, 2000? ” The young girl gave a nod. “Great! Now that that’s out of the way I thought we could get to know each other a little.” she exclaimed. “My name is Marina Tischner and I’ve been a therapist for about ten years now. I love working with children and young adults such as yourself. I take a really laid back approach when counseling. I don’t push my patients into anything they are uncomfortable sharing and will not reveal to anyone what is said in this room unless it endangers the lives of others or yourself. Do you understand?” Willa tugged at a curl that had fallen loose from her ponytail. She bit her lip, humming a yes and hugged the pillow in her arms that sat beside her. Dr. Tischner continued to question her about different stuff in her life such as her favorite color, food, animal, etc, and by the end Will found herself slightly smiling, not as tense as she had been when she first arrived. There was something about the woman that gave off a maternal presence. Something she hadn’t felt since the death of her parents. Dr. Tischner cared about her. It wasn’t fake. She gulped, holding back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Willa bit her bottom lip, drawing blood but sucked it away. “I’d like to talk about you parents.” she casually brought up, stopping Willa in her tracks. Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. It was the one thing she refused to ever talk about. A single tear fell from her eye. “You witnessed your parents murder.” Dr. Tischner's voice was just above a whisper. “That’s when the anxiety and PTSD started, isn’t it?” Her chest rose up and down. She didn’t have the words to scream at her to stop the questions. Her shoulders shook as she continued to speak. Willa couldn’t breathe, she was gonna pass out. “You were only ten years old. I couldn’t imagine what that could do to a child.” she sadly shook her head. “You didn’t see your brother until you were at the hospital. That’s why he isn’t as affected as you are. Does that ring true?” The sound of a gunshot echoed in her mind. Her mother’s dead body fell to the ground. A pool of blood surrounded her. Willa’s father was already dead, having been murdered first. The intruders thought no one was home. That’s what they claimed in court. They never meant to kill anyone, they were just gonna rob her house. It didn’t make it any better because her mother and father were dead. She hid upstairs at the top of the staircase, terrified to make a move, afraid they’d hear her. It was two o’clock in the morning. Her brother was sleeping over at a friend's house. That was the day her life changed forever. “Take a sip of water.” Dr. Tischner calmly nodded toward the glass on the table. “We’ll stop the questioning.” She didn’t have to tell her twice. Holding the glass with shaking hands, she tilted it to her lips, gulping it down, barely noticing the change in taste. Willa finished it within a few seconds and collapsed back against the couch, suddenly overcome with fatigue. “We’ll stop for now. Why don’t you take a little nap… we’ve still got ten minutes left.” Dr. Tischner encouraged. Willa didn’t have to be told twice. A haze had clouded over her mind and suddenly she found it harder to stay awake. The only thing she could hear was the doctor’s voice calmly lulling her to sleep. ooOoo This couldn’t be real. Willa naively thought. The last thing she remembered was being at Dr. Tischner’s, her brother leaving her, recounting parents' death, and having a panic attack. She didn’t remember anything after that. A part of her desperately wished for this to be a dream but she knew it wasn’t. It was too real. Warm tears blinded her already blurred vision as her chest rose up and down, desperate to escape the entrapment she had been placed in. Willa wanted to be home in her own bedroom, laying in her queen sized bed. She wanted to be with her brother. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. She wanted to be away from here. Away from this woman who was holding her as if she weighed nothing. . She couldn’t move her arms or legs. Her entire body was constricted in a tight swaddle by the light pink blanket. It had taken a moment for her to realize that as she slowly awoke, hearing the soft sound of the woman’s voice. That was ten minutes ago. Willa should've been freaking out more than she was. She should’ve been crying and screaming and having a panic attack. But the only sign of her panic were the fat tears that rolled down her cheeks, as she stared up at the woman who cradled her against her bare skin. The only thing she could focus on was her green eyes, unable to see anything else. If she tried to look more than six feet away it all became a big blur. “You’re alright, baby.” the woman cooed as she wiped away the tears. She spoke down to her as if she were an actual infant, unable to understand basic speech.That pissed Willa off more than anything. But she had no way to show it except for the glare in her eyes. “Mommy’s got you,” she spoke in a high pitched voice. “You’re safe with mommy now. You don’t have to worry about those big bad thoughts in your head. Just suck your paci.” she tapped the large object that was stuffed in her mouth. Willa was forced to suck on it, unable to spit it out due to the strap that went around her head. Pitiful whimpers rose from the back of her throat and the woman condescendingly cooed, rocking them both in the rocking chair. They were in the infant ward. The room was light pink and smelled of baby powder. Ten large adult sized newborn incubators filled the room and changing tables ran along the walls. There was also a rocking chair in each corner of the room. Everything was adult sized. Tapping her bottom, Willa’s eyes widened in horror as she felt a cushiony bulk on her bottom half. The woman’s smile widened, showing off her shiny white teeth. “Does baby Willa have to use her diapee?” She began to wiggle as hard as she could, trying to escape but she was too weak. Now she was sobbeduncontrollably as the weight of the woman’s words sank in. She was swaddled like a newborn, sucking on a pacifier, and in a diaper that she was expected to use. Her vision had been blurred. Her muscles were weak. She was as helpless as an infant. Willa was an infant. The woman stood up, pacing as she rocked her back and forth, supporting her head like you’d do a real baby. She wore no shirt and Willa’s cheek was pressed right up against her large left breast. Willa was only faintly aware of the woman’s hand, pressing on her stomach. The more she wiggled the looser her bladder became until suddenly a warm stream flooded her diaper. The thick padding expanded and she screamed and screamed through the pacifier, glaring at the woman in hate for forcing her to piss herself. It was warm and wet, sloshing around her bottom before being absorbed. She desperately wanted it off. She was twenty years old. She hadn’t used a diaper since she was two years old. “I’m so proud of you!” the crazy woman praised her. “You used your diapee like a good little baby-- you’re my good little girl!” She gave her a wet kiss on the forhead and placed her on the changing table, ignoring the screams. A moment later, another woman walked into the room through the sliding doors. Both had curly brown hair that fell right above their shoulders and fair skin. She crooned, brushing her hair out of the girl's out of her face. “I think she’s one of the cutest infants we’ve had yet.” the woman tickled under her chin, causing Willa to try to wriggle away. “She’s also a very smelly baby! I think it’s time for a diapee change!” The second woman held her down as her mommy undid the swaddle revealing he naked body and sagging thick diaper. She continued to sniffle, out of energy to fight. A strap was tightened over her waist and chest while the second woman held down her shoulders. Moving quickly, the straps were undone and the diaper removed. Grabbing baby wipes, she wipes down everywhere, running her finger over her now bare pubic bone. Willa’s eyes realized at the realization only for the woman to giggle. “Babies like you don’t need grown up hair. Infants are bare.” she covered her in baby powder, not wanting to cause a rash and retapped an even thicker diaper making her unable to close her thighs. Undoing the straps, Willa wanted to plead not to be swaddled again but it’s what her mommy did. She wrapped it around her body even tighter than before and supporting her neck, held her against her body. “I’ll go get a bottle.” said the other woman. “Little babies like her shouldn’t be up for so long. Little Willa needs to go nighty- night.”

[It is already implied in the story, but for explicit clarity all characters herein are adults over 21 years of age.] [EDIT: This is just to give potential new readers an idea of what to expect. This story presents a variety of (primarily ABDL) themes, and more keep appearing as it gets longer, but infantilism is a reoccurring one, as is sexual tension between the characters and peeing/pooping diapers. If that combination turns you off, probably not a good fit. Otherwise, and especially if you enjoy a variety of themes and situations rather than a story that focuses on just one, I hope you'll give it a try. There IS a proper story here too, I promise, and actual character development, but it's taking me a few chapters to really get it going. I need to go back and edit the first chapters for stylistic and voice consistency, but I haven't gotten there yet. But problems aside, I hope you'll enjoy my humble first attempt at writing for others to see:] [EDITED FROM THE ORIGINAL POST: UPDATED TO SECOND DRAFT] The Wild North CHAPTER ONE (MACADAMIA) Only frozen foothills lay behind. Only towering rock and a fool's death lay ahead. This was a barren, sharply-sloping land of white. It was broken, only occasionally, by harsh black stone upthrusts. Plants did not grow here. It was not a place for life and living things. It was a land of sleeping giants and the black wings of carrion eaters soaring across the muted gray heavens. A giant hand of unforgiving granite blocked the entire horizon in the distance ahead, thrusting up towards the heavens with a sheer vertical face that might have been carved by the gods themselves, and for the specific purpose of thwarting the curious, and crushing the spirits of the brave. Yet in between what came before and what stood ahead were two curious figures, tiny by comparison and huddled against the blowing wind beneath an overhang of rock. Both were wearing light, draping furs over tunics, with thick wool covering their legs and vanishing beneath the lower folds of their tunics. A young woman, her posture bold and unbent, stared forward from beneath the meager shelter, her gaze sizing up the mountains before them as if judging an upstart adversary rather than a force of nature, her unrestrained shoulder-length dark hair dancing freely in the breeze. Behind her, huddling bent against the rock wall as if to become a part of it, a young man with short-cropped sandy hair followed. Macadamia, the young woman was called back home, for she was hard -it was said- like the nut. No one would ever see the woman beneath the shell, they would whisper. She had never been bothered by it. She even embraced the nickname, and no longer went by any other. She was not antisocial exactly, for she saw no value in unkindness, and she was free enough with smiles and a kind greetings, it was simply that people had never been one of her interests. She spent years, long after passing the age of adulthood, gobbling up every story she had come across, written or oral. She worked her family’s farm during the day, but spent zero time courting a suitor, or other such things that were expected of a woman her age. It had earned her the enmity of more than one man who, having spent years admiring her somewhat petite but athletic figure develop into the curves of womanhood, had no-doubt looked forward with longing for the day they might win her heart. Occasionally a man would still try. “I want to love you forever,” a handsome young man had once said to her. “We’ll… raise sheep and be happy!” She only smiled at the clumsy but well-meaning attempt. “No one should live forever,” she had replied quite matter-of-factly. A couple of women had tried as well, hoping her reasons for rejecting men was the one they wanted. Unfortunately for them all, any such feelings rode in the back of the wagon while she steered her life elsewhere, towards fantasies and books, far away places and mysteries unsolved. Each time she found a trader with a new book it was all she cared about until it was read, and read again, only to be forgotten by the next one that came along. She followed her whimsy like the northern star. There was another reason as well. She knew that few would truly want her once they knew everything about her, and she felt no need to invite stories to spread. Against all odds she did one day find a man around whom she wanted to spend time. He too had passed into adulthood but refused to play the game. With his body more graceful than muscular, and his golden skin smooth rather than worn, he was handsome to be sure - but not in the way that so many women wanted. He had no accomplishments about which to boast, would never emerge victorious in a contest of strength, had no interest in winning fame through tournaments or distant wars, and was a stalwart recluse. What interest women might show went unrequited. He was quiet and shy and had -to the best of everyone's knowledge- never actually started a conversation other than to ask a necessary question or make a purchase at the market. Yet one day he had done the unthinkable – and with Macadamia of all people. It seemed they shared an interest in history and lore, and after overhearing one of her inquiries to a book dealer he had approached her with open, unprovoked questions. The two talked, and were friends thereafter. It was only later that she discovered the poor man's father was a monster. Though seldom home, he had taken to beating his family when he was. When the father was home the son was never seen. Macadamia had met the family’s matriarch but felt only sadness for the woman with the empty eyes and forced smiles. The town frowned on the whole unhappy business, but their disapproval meant nothing to the brute of a father. Not the inflated prices from the merchants, not the cold looks or quiet stares, could draw a reaction from him. No one dared challenge him openly; the man was a mountain on two legs - so unlike his son in every way. In fact, many rumors had spread over the years about alternate leanages for the boy. Some were as fanciful and ludicrous as an affair with a visiting prince in disguise. To Macadamia he seemed nothing more, or less, than an ordinary young man who had secrets, and she understood perfectly well having secrets. She did not fancy him out of pity, but for his mind and -if she was being honest- perhaps his sculpted body just a bit as well. When she finally embarked on a worthy adventure, she knew she could not leave him behind. Not to go from day to day hiding his bruises, ever sinking into sadness in a world that did not appreciate him. Not while she was alive. His name was Elm. It was not a nickname, his mother had simply found elm trees beautiful. The irony of naming a boy 'Elm' amidst the bows of deep, green, fir-covered evergreen forests was apparently lost on the woman. Or perhaps her mind simply took comfort in imagining places far away. Macadamia and Elm had spent many nights gazing at maps and books, scribbling by candlelight and sharing ideas, to the point that rumors had spread about Macadamia taking a man after all, but refusing to claim him. The truth would have bored them all to tears. The two met for only a couple hours here and there, usually in a neutral but private setting, and frequently as the sun was waning and the affairs of the day were done. They studied obscure legends. One in particular stuck and became a lasting shared interest: a legend of a gateway, strangely persistent in its retelling across spans of history. It purported to be a path to a land without sorrow. One without poverty or hunger or hardship. A land of eternal summer. The two talked of books, shared research, did absolutely nothing romantic or sordid as the townsfolk imagined, and then went home. Until the day they did not. It was dawn when they looked back on home for the last time. They turned their gazes to the horizon as the orange rays of the morning sun kissed the dew with gentle hews. The market was closed that day. They were alone as they sat before their maps, spread out on one of the old wooden tables. The dew made its surface slick, shiny, and cold but neither took notice. They had finally uncovered what they believed to be the path to the fabled gateway, their breath coming out in puffs amidst the cool morning air, their voices hushed but excited. They considered provisions with glances and short yeses and nos. They had never properly agreed to go at all, it simply happened that they both fell silent, having said their peace, met each other’s eyes, packed up their things, and walked away. She wondered if their respective families would ever come looking for them, though she doubted it. Such sudden departures were not unheard-of. Sometimes lovers would run away, or those unhappy with the harsh northern life would spend their meager coin to leave on a trader’s cart. Sometimes entire families would have a bad harvest or lose their animals to disease and hardship, then pick up and leave one day without a word. Guilt nagged at her thoughts, for she held no resentment towards her family and knew they would worry about her, but she pushed it aside. If all went well they would return with stories of their own to tell, and discoveries that would open doors for them far away from their home of gossipers and dark secrets. There would be plenty of time for apologies then, after the worthiness of their quest could not be denied. They would be scholars, she would think whimsically, a soft smile warming her features. They could write books of their own. In her wildest moments of fancy, she wondered if they should return at all. What if there really could be such a land, and they could live there? They both knew the quest would not be an easy one. Not even leaving in the early spring as they were. Not even if their most optimistic theories were correct. It would be a long, hard journey. They had agreed. Somehow that knowledge failed to alleviate her aches and pains. It seemed that facts would forever fail to prepare her for experience. The ground had gotten steadily steeper as they neared the great cliffs. Although the snow had relented, a spiteful wind tapped the existing drifts and blew the weaponized ice crystals into her eyes like coarse sand. Their clothing had proven thoroughly inadequate for the pernicious winter weather. Apparently no one had informed the mountains that it was now spring. At least the exercise of lugging her heavy pack up the slopes kept the cold from causing more than discomfort. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Elm was still standing, then frowned; he looked likely to fall over at any moment. Concern gripped her heart and she pulled him further into the meager shelter of their shallow cave. "Elm," she chided gently after worming her way out of her pack’s clingy straps, "why didn't you say something? Here-" She dug out the thick fur she had brought along for sleeping and tossed it around his shoulders, then kneeled, and pulled him down to her until he was sitting on her lap. "We'll wait here until the wind calms," she assured him, rubbing his arms briskly. Would the wind calm? Who knew, but it seemed best not to voice that worry. Nor the other worries creeping up from the shadows of her mind, such as the one that said this whole plan might have been a tad misguided. Especially not that one. He nodded. "I'm fine," he insisted despite his tacit agreement to delay. "I won't hold you back." "I know you won't." She kept to her most reassuring tone, then said nothing as he pushed himself more closely to her, his bottom now resting firmly on her thighs as they both pulled the blanket as tightly around them as it would go. Her taller frame accommodated the posture, as if their bodies were meant to fit together, with his head coming to rest comfortably on her left shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his body, so close now, and realized she had never been this close to a man. This wasn't how she imagined it. The story books left out the part where the prince and princess were more interested in not freezing to death than dancing with endearing chipmunks and getting lost in each other's eyes. Even so, she felt as if the heat of her own body had grown just a bit too. Just two bodies close together in a warm blanket, she decided firmly, nothing more. His shivering began to subside and she felt a wash of relief, which then turned to surprise as he started... snoring? He had fallen asleep in her arms. Clearly the journey was taking a great toll on him. She mentally shrugged and let him sleep; there didn’t seem to be any harm in taking a couple of hours to nap. It had not been nearly that long when a new sensation kindled her surprise - a sudden, intense heat was spreading out across her thighs. Her heart fluttered in a brief panic. Had she..? Surreptitiously as she could manage, she tilted her head and looked down, but his round, innocent eyes were still closed in slumber. Her left arm was underneath the furs, and she nervously used it to explore. In the northern lands of her home, it was a common style of dress for both sexes to wear leggings that stopped at the mid thigh. They were usually made form-fitting and with rigid ornamentation throughout, the purpose of which -beyond vanity of course- was to force them to retain their shape rather than sliding down and bunching up at the knees. It was a strange custom for a land so cold, but proud northerners embraced it conspicuously, showing off glimpses of skin as if to prove how little the climate affected them. What they did not volunteer is that the fabric of the leggings was thick and warm, and that most people wore equally thick, warm underwear underneath their thigh-length tunics, never mind their thick fur cloaks with hoods. Northerners, it seemed, were just as vulnerable to the cold as anyone - but only the unwise would be caught leaking that secret to a southerner. Her hand explored the increasingly wet fabric of her leggings, and upwards towards her crotch. She reached inside the thick puffiness of her own undergarment, holding a tense breath, but found that it was dry. Relief warred with confusion. Her hand explored -ever so gently so as not to wake him- Elm's underwear. The frontal regions were already soaking, and the warm moisture was spreading steadily outward around the sides and bottom. Without her conscious direction her hand moved forward to the source of the flow. The bulge of his dormant manhood was like a hot spring in the cold winter air as his underwear absorbed all that it could and was forced to let the rest flow freely around her fingers and onto her lap. For a few moments she sat, unsure what to do in this situation, as the flow soaked more of her leggings, and it was during her hesitation that he blinked awake - her hand still resting on the front of his underwear. He blinked. She blinked. "What's going..?" His eyes shot wide open. "I'm afraid you're peeing yourself," she explained unnecessarily. Some dormant instinct took over and she felt a cool confidence. "But it's nothing to lose sleep over," she said soothingly, dismissing the situational irony with a frown. "Don't worry, alright?" "I can't believe this is happening," he said miserably, lowering his head to avoid meeting her gaze. "Father would..." His voice had drifted off, but her own anger suddenly flared to life, like an open fire doused with grease. "Is this why your father always acts so ashamed of you? Why he always treats you poorly and keeps you out of sight? Because you... have accidents?" "I... I kept wetting the bed," he said in the voice of one resigned to a cruel but well deserved fate. "Father used to humiliate me for it... you know, to try and get me to stop. But it only made things worse and I started having accidents during the day. But I thought... I thought..." His voice was growing even more miserable. He had omitted the beatings, though the whole village knew about them. "It's alright," she kept repeating softly. The smell of pee and wet fabric started to waft out from underneath the thick fur in which they were huddled, while she pretended not to notice. He did not seem able to stop. The odor was strong, but strangely not unpleasant. It smelled uniquely of him. The gusting wind subsided, and in the sudden quiet she could hear the hiss of his stream penetrating the fabric of his underwear before finally running out. The sudden lack of hot pee washing over her fingers made her realize where her hand still sat, and she hastily relocated it. "There now. I know you feel better. It really is alright." He grew quiet for a time, and when he spoke again his voice sounded closer to its normal even tones. "I've been getting better since I met you. I thought... I thought I could control it. Now I know I shouldn't have come..." "Don't you dare say that," she scolded him gently, "I..." She stumbled over how to reassure him, and went with the simple truth. "I wouldn't have made this journey without you anyway, and I'm so glad you came! I don't want you to worry about this at all." When she continued to hold him and he didn’t pull away, she was struck by a feeling of rightness to the situation – of caring for him and reassuring him. She had been doing it almost instinctively since they had met, she now realized, and the instinct was only becoming stronger. The cold weather and blowing moisture prowled only feet away as the wind resumed its hunt. Wet clothing would only make its bite stronger, but their warm northern wool would provide some protection even when wet, and she saw no more reason to depart right now than she had before. She said as much and gently persuaded him to get some rest. When her persuasions failed she tried something new: she started humming a soft, gentle tune just as her mother had always done for her. It felt strange to share experiences so innocent and yet so intimate with a man who was close to her own age, but his youthful manner and appearance might have allowed him to pass for a younger brother. Did she want to think of him that way, as a boy? Or did she prefer the man? Perhaps all men had a dual nature, a vulnerable child still hiding within. She leaned back against the rock, unable to completely deny her own exhaustion. Did she really mind so much if that were true? Maybe his strange innocence was something she liked about him. Nothing wrong with that. Was there? Sleep took her by surprise after several minutes of stroking his coarse, sandy hair, still humming that same, mellow tune. A voice whispered in her dreams. It said that they would soon need to find their legs, and their courage. It said that far more than wind and weather awaited them out here, in the wild north.

Disclaimer: There will be some difficult subjects such as violence, brief mention of drugs/alcohol and also some strong language used. A/N: Hello everyone! This will be the last part of Willa's series but I do plan to continue telling the other character's stories! Just to make something clear, the story is starting two years before Willa goes to Henderson and will be told from the perspective of her brother and her. However with the first chapter, it's going through the years showing the events that shaped her childhood and lead her to all the problems she had before she went to Henderson. I hope you enjoy! ooOoo Chapter 1: Ten Years Ago She wet herself. That was the first thing she noticed. She hadn’t wet herself since she was about five years old. She was ten now. Ten year olds did not pee in their beds. The doctors said she was in shock. They said that it was completely normal but watching your parents be murdered was not normal. Nothing about the situation was normal. She remembered her parents were in the living room watching a movie when they broke in. The living room was right next to the front door and they should’ve heard the door open but for some reason they didn’t. Upstairs, she was supposed to be asleep but she’d just gotten a new ipad (they wouldn’t get her a phone) and could finally text her friends and a cute boy had asked for her number so she was waiting up for him. But if he did text, she never saw. It had already begun. She first heard her father shout. Her dad was a calm person. Always mellow, not one to get easily triggered. Standing at six feet, he was a big guy and most people found him intimidating upon the first meeting but their fear always quickly disappeared. Willa remembered jumping out of bed and racing into the hall with the tablet in hand. Standing at the top of the stairs, just out of view, she peeked around the corner. Her dad’s hands were up. There were two men. They shot him first and he fell to the ground. Next was her mother, she didn’t stand a chance. The men rushed from the house out the open door. It had been less than five minutes. Less than five minutes and her parents were dead. Less than five minutes and her entire life had changed. That’s what she told the police officers when they spoke to her at the hospital. She didn’t feel sad. She didn’t really feel anything, the words just poured from her mouth. Willa squeezed her hands into fists and out. In and out. They were dry, clean. The blood had been washed away. She leaned back against the pillow, slightly shivering, The paper hospital gown was not warm at all. She sat stiff straight, her heart pounded against her chest. The sound of blood rushed through her ears. That’s when she felt the wetness between her legs. The police continued to ask her questions and she continued to pee. The officers realized what had happened. No more questions were asked. ooOoo Six Years Ago It was what every fourteen year old girl dreamed of. Their first date. She squealed… yes, squealed when Andre asked her to be his date to the eighth grade dance. Out of all the girls in the school, he asked her. Mister Popular wanted to go out with well… not so Miss Popular. She was what you’d call a wallflower. Sitting at the back of class, her hand raised yet no one saw. Pressed against the wall, someone bumped into her and her books fell to the ground. Yet no one seemed to notice. If she disappeared, no one would know. She was unmemorable. Plain. Ordinary. So why would Andrew Crawford ask her to semi? It didn’t make sense. She had a bad feeling about it but still said yes. She wanted to hope that the feeling was wrong. She had wanted to feel pretty for once. But now she hid behind the school, sucking on the tip of her thumb as mascara streamed down her face mixed in with salty tears. She slid down the wall to the ground, her chest heaved up and down. Never again, she promised herself. Never again, would she say yes to a boy. She was a fool to think Andre Crawford actually liked her. He’d stood her up, arriving with Shelby Hennings instead. Everyone was in on it. The invisible girl getting asked by the pretty boy. Now that was a comical sight. It was all a bet to see if she’d actually say yes. They called her a baby for crying and maybe she was. Why else would she be sucking on her thumb? Boys sucked. Middle school sucked. Her entire life sucked. She’d even straightened her thick curly black hair for tonight and went shopping at the cute new boutique downtown. She hadn't been dress shopping since her mother died and so she picked out what the shop owner suggested. It was a mustard yellow knee length dress. The color went best with her caramel skin and she’d gotten matching pumps. She spent her entire monthly allowance on that night. It was supposed to be magical. It signified a start of a brand new life. A better one than she was living right now. Living with her uncle was fine was fine. He left her mostly alone and she managed alright and her brother Adrian attended Washington State University and was only home on the holidays. Should she call her uncle to pick her up? No. That was too embarrassing. She’d have to walk home. The likelihood of getting kidnapped was high but it was better than facing the truth of her uncle’s words. “He’s using you.” he had said just a few hours ago but she hadn't believe him. Now, she sat on the ground, outside the school, sucking her thumb and painfully alone. Her mother would’ve known what to do. She knew everything. ooOoo Two years ago “Y-you’re kicking me out?” she stammered. It had only been two days since she graduated high school. Two fucking days. Her uncle had already cleaned all her stuff out of his apartment. They sat in trash bags by the front door. It’s not like she was surprised. He had never wanted her or her brother in the first place. He fed them when needed. Spoke to them when needed but other than that left them alone. She doesn’t even think that he noticed when her brother moved out. “You’re eighteen years old. You have a job and are going to college in a few months. I’m sure you can figure something out, Willow-” “My name is Willa!” she snapped. “And if you had paid attention or even bothered to show up to my graduation then you’d know that I didn’t apply to schools and I was fired from the restaurant.” He scoffed, rolling his brown eyes and ran his hand through his grey hair. He had a beer belly and always seemed to wear the same grease stained shirt and pants. The apartment reeked of stale beer and left over pizza. She was desperate to get out of there but not now. Not like this. “Well, tough luck. I’m fucking broke and if you stay, we’ll both have no place to live. Besides, I've dealt with your strangeness for long enough.” She went silent. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. “You didn’t think I knew about your little diaper obsession? Why the fuck would a grown adult hide diapers in their drawer, hmm?” Her lips wobbled. She’d kept them securely hidden away where no one would find them but of course he’d go through her room. He was a cruel man. If he wasn’t drinking then he was doing drugs. There was a reason her parents kept her and her brother away from him growing up. And besides, they weren’t diapers. They were pull ups. She… she still peed in her pants at night. That problem had never been fixed but had managed to keep it a secret the past eight years. Besides, It was simply just a precaution. It’s not like she wore them outside her room. “Call a friend or something or your brother. Andrew, yeah. Andrew will take you in. Just don’t come back here.” Adrian! Her mind hissed. His name was Adrian. Her older brother by five years. Her protector who hadn’t been around lately. Her everything. He’d take her in. He had to. She had no friends because she wouldn’t let herself get close to others. The semi formal still played in her mind every day as a reminder not to trust anyone. Now, she couldn’t even trust her uncle. “Fuck you!” she spat as she dragged the two black bags out the door. She made it halfway down the street and around the corner before she allowed herself to break down. It was as if she had been hit by a moving train and the pain didn’t start to sink in until later. She was freakin homeless. At eighteen years old. No matter how much she wanted to go to her brother, she couldn’t. He and his girlfriend lived together and he had just gotten some new fancy job with the state department that was top secret. He literally couldn’t tell anyone about it and they’d gifted him with a brand new apartment and car in the upscale neighborhood. She didn’t want to go and get in his way because wherever she went, trouble followed. But it wouldn’t hurt to stay at a homeless shelter for a few days, would it? She’d have a place to sleep at least for tonight and then tomorrow she’d figure else something out. ooOoo “I’m sorry but we’re at capacity.” Those words were starting to sound like a broken record. It was her third shelter she’d been turned away from. Perhaps, she could beg her uncle to take her back. At least there, she had some warmth and a roof over her head. She refused to stay on the streets. “Are you ok?” Her head shot up. A tall blonde woman was talking to her, a well dressed one at that. She didn’t belong in this neighborhood that much was obvious. Sketchy people lived here. Poor people lived here. “I don’t mean to intrude but you’ve seemed to um… wet your pants.” A gasp escaped her lips as she looked down at the rapidly growing stain around her crotch. Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. She raised her leg, about to stomp her foot, but stopped herself at the last moment. Her chest heaved up and down. She bit down on her bottom lip, wide eyes filled with tears. This had never happened before in the day. It had never happened in public before. How could she not have felt it? Willa was prepared for the ridicule. The laughter. But none came. Instead, the woman handed her her sweater. “Tie this around your waist and cover up the stain. Do you have anywhere to stay?” she eyed her trash bags in pity. Timidly, the young girl shook her head side to side. “My name is Vera James. I can help you if you wish. I’ve worked with many, kids, such as yourself with similar problems-” “It was a one time thing and I don’t have a problem,” her voice hardened. The lady pursed her lips, continuing after the interruption. “Everyone has accidents.” she said matter of factly, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before and It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I live in Henderson, you may not have heard of the town, it’s a little outside of the city. I foster at risk youth and troubled teens-” “I’m fine,” her voice rose before she could let the woman continue. Her mother had always warned her about stranger danger. Just because she was nice and seemed to care, did not mean she was not dangerous. Besides, she’d never heard of this Henderson place and if it was so great, what was she doing here? “I’m, um, I’m going to stay with my brother.” she made up an excuse. The woman didn’t believe her. “I was actually on my way there right now.” she said. “Now, if you’d excuse me.” ooOoo A/N: I hope you've all enjoyed the first chapter! There wasn't a ton of ageplay in the first chapter but trust me, it's just getting started! I've actually already started writing the second chapter and so that should be posted shortly!

Basically, this idea was inspired by my current playthrough of New Horizons. Basically the idea is that when humans are offered a chance at island life by Tom Nook, what they don't know is that they are in fact going to be basically in a baby/pet role for all the animals on the island. The specifics are this: *Humans are rendered unconscious shortly after boarding the plane to the island; unbeknownst to them, during this time they are rendered completely incontinent and dressed in babyish clothes. *Upon arrival at the island, they are placed in the care of the animals (who take turns looking after them) until such time as a permanent nursery can be built for them. *While they are unconscious they are also given mental conditioning that creates uncontrollable urges to act "cute" and/or "babylike" at random; for example, if a human sees the Bunny Day character (forget his name atm), he/she may have the sudden and absolutely overpowering desire to hop around like a bunny and giggle, or something to that effect. *Humans are not allowed to change their own diapers, bathe themselves, or find or make their own food (they must either be bottle-fed or have food placed in front of them by their caretaker). If an animal gives them a command, the human must obey. *If the humans attempt to defy their control, they are given a tickle session until they wet themselves; the post-hypnotic trigger thus activated robs them of their intelligence, and when this effect is applied lost intelligence stays lost longer with each successive punishment. Three strikes, and your brain is turned to silly baby mush, and you truly become 100% helpless! This is not to say that humans are free to be treated poorly. Island management frowns heavily upon mistreatment and/or neglect of the island's human pet, and residents are encouraged to play with their human. All of the restrictions aside, humans are generally allowed to play and run around as they like. The focus of this RP would be on entirely harmless, non-sexual, non-humiliation and non-icky fluff. Basically, just a big cute fluff babyfest! This would be an open RP; the players would choose in advance what they would prefer to be: an animal, or a human. Islands can have multiple humans, but when the human house/nursery is built it is done so with the intention of housing all of the humans together. The RP would be open to anyone who wants to join in, so long as they post a character description here with the following format: CHARACTER NAME: SPECIES: GENDER: APPEARANCE:

Hi all! I'm new here from Canada seeking some regression RPs!

Hi there! I'm looking for some ABDL play involving both physical and mental regression. Perhaps my character has been acting up and they are deciding to teach her a lesson! Let's help this little girl get adjusted to her new life! I prefer description and writing in third person. So...if you are interested, please hit me up!