Heavenly Bliss

Taken from the ABDL romance book:

Last Snow

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here is a little story about a tasty meal, a world record and some Heavenly bliss.

Heavenly Bliss –

Veronica sat at the card table, working on the jigsaw puzzle but not really focusing on it all that much. She had so many other thoughts on her mind: hearing back about the job interview, if the snow would ever stop falling outside to allow them to go skiing, a magical weekend with a Daddy who kept babying the daylights out of her mind and her never-ending journey to reach that fullest sense of regression.

Her mind was already swamped with too much already.

What snapped her out of it was the feeling of having the back of her diaper pulled out, Hunter giving her yet another diaper check – being obsessed with catching her in the act … should it ever happen.

Instantly, her senses returned her to where she was and she felt those wonderful tingles all over. Reaching up to him to get picked up, she rushed full steam right back into dreamy headspace.

It had to be a little bit of regression. When she got a sudden influx of those tingles, it had to be regression. And it was getting stronger, each time it happened.

Oh, my goodness. The smell in the air was wonderful, Veronica seeing dinner already sitting on plates on the table as Hunter carried her into the kitchen. And as he sat her in the highchair, fastening the seat belt and sliding the tray into place on the chair’s arms, she got a closer look at those plates of food on the kitchen table.

Dinner would be: flaky salmon – drenched in a sweet teriyaki sauce, roasted carrots and broccoli – with seasoning, and green beans in a buttery sauce. There was lemonade in her sippy cup and now she was really hungry. Hunter was an amazing chef.

Her mouth salivated at the sight of it, her lips growing wet behind her pacifier. Thankfully, Hunter took the pacifier out of her mouth so she could close her lips before she started drooling on herself. Putting a bib around her neck, Hunter placed a wonderful plate of food on her highchair tray and scooted his chair up to her to feed her.

Sinking the side of the fork into the salmon, he swirled it around in the teriyaki sauce before he lifted it up to her mouth. With the sweetest smile imaginable, she took the salmon bite in her mouth – giddy that he was going to be feeding her. And ohhhh, the flavor of the salmon was absolutely magnificent. She chewed it slowly and swallowed it. Then she got those tingly feelings again and suddenly, everything around her turned into slow motion.

The sounds of the crackling fire faded away. The details of the kitchen cabinets behind him became fuzzy. Her eyesight grew fuzzy no matter where she looked. And the only thing that still had crystal clarity was Hunter, her beloved caregiving Daddy.

His face was cheery and he made silly gestures, keeping her laughing as he fed her bite after bite of the wonderful meal. He would constantly take the bib and use it to wipe the drool off her lips.

“What do you call a fish with no eyes?” she heard him ask in a syrupy-rich Daddy Voice – Veronica simply smiling and waiting for the silly answer. “Fsh.”

She paused for a moment and then she understood, laughter taking her over but the slow-motion perception remained. It was as if his silliness had become more hysterical than usual, his voice rippling throughout more than it normally did and his gestures of care reaching the center of her heart with meaning. It was as if Hunter had become the center of her entire world. And the only thing that seemed to matter to him … was her.

When she bounced, she crinkled. When she smiled, the happiness that made her smile also made her swoon. The affection she felt for him, though strong already, grew stronger. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. She wanted to tell the entire world how much she loved him. She actually tried to say it, but all that came out was babbling. It was like her mind was so overloaded with the heightening of everything that the motor skills necessary to speak were escaping her current abilities.

She had no idea why all of this was happening, but she was enjoying it. She was loving it. This was better than white-hot attention. It may, in fact, have been the next level up from white-hot attention. And she never wanted to leave this state of being.

But dinner ended and she slowly returned to more stability. For a moment, she thought he might have put something in the food. But then she realized that she felt those tingly feelings before the headspace began. Whatever those tingly feelings were, she wanted to feel them more often and as frequently as possible.

There were quite a few more dishes from this meal. And as Hunter helped her out of the highchair, cleaning it and pushing it back into the far corner of the kitchen, Veronica joined in on the clean-up process. He washed the dish and handed it to her. She dried it and set it in the rack …. Daddy’s little helper.

This thought alone gave her a bit of a babyish feeling.

And who could blame her for feeling that way? Not only was it what she craved, it was also something he found ease in nurturing into existence. The encouragement, support and enablement favored this journey. She was standing in the kitchen, in a soft pink nightshirt with a unicorn on it, thigh high soft pink socks, powdered and diapered, fed meals in a highchair, left to play in a play pen, made to sleep in a crib, in the middle of a fully furnished nursery, babied by a man she called Daddy, with a softened mindset, softened emotions, tingly feelings and moments when everything became so intense that the world moved in slow motion.

This was the dawning of regression. It just simply had to be. It was her mind trying to push her into it. She felt moments of it, sort of like a taste test – a sampling to see if she liked it.

There wasn’t anything else she could think of that could happen to further this reaction …… or so she thought.

Drying off the frying pan lid, she carefully set it into the drying rack. Then she felt a little something, a momentary sensation of discomfort like a knot inside her that then untied itself. Her knees bent slightly as she clenched her thighs together and a look of panic washed over her face. She crinkled a few steps towards the glass doors and then realized she was going the wrong way. So she turned around and crinkled a few steps towards the main room, basically making it right back to where she was standing to begin with.

The game of world record holdings was over.

“Do you need to make poopies, baby?” Hunter asked with a softened tone, turning the faucet off and leaving the frying pan to soak – Veronica nodding quickly … incapable of wasting time being shy as the inevitable would shortly be arriving. “It’s okay.”

He picked her up and wrapped his left arm around the back of her clenched thighs. How helpless she felt, how very babyish of a moment indeed. She wasn’t even capable of making it to the toilet on her own. And when the urge struck her, she couldn’t process what she needed to do to get there.

Moving swiftly, he carried her back to the nursery and straight into the bathroom. Her panic had turned to fussiness as her clench was beginning to give way. Setting her down on her feet, he grabbed at her hips – taking hold of the waist band of her diaper and sliding it down to her ankles. Then he made her sit straight down.

And she went way down, all the way until she came to rest on that little pink plastic princess potty that sat right next to the big people toilet. Her face blushed the same color as her nightshirt and socks. This was usually an operation that took place on the big people toilet and it was an operation that always had absolute privacy to it – whether it was for the current reason or for monthly reasons.

But there would be no privacy this time … or any time in the future. She grew lightheaded from the embarrassment she felt and an oh-so-very-shy demeanor fell over her. Leaning forward, she buried her face between her high bent knees and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. This was intense, very intense … and it might well have been just a bit too intense to continue.

However, she wouldn’t be sitting on that little potty for long. She was positioned as low as a full squat and the movement would only be helped out that much quicker because of this. So maybe the experience would pass swiftly … no pun intended. But with Hunter sitting on the big people potty and gently rubbing the back of her nightshirt, she came to a fully understanding of the meaning of and the effect of having an audience.

“I’ll be right back,” he said gently, kissing the top of her head and going into the nursery – this being her brief bit of privacy.

Nursing on her pacifier, she whimpered just slightly as she felt her rosebud preparing for things to pass. The wait, though momentary, was the stuff that regression sought – a few solitary seconds to realign and change one’s perception of reality.

Apparently, there were more things that could happen to further her current state of mind. How humbling, but how freeing that was.

Hunter returned from the nursery, setting a few things on the back of the big people toilet and taking a seat. Lifting her chin, she gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, remembering exactly what he told her about the princess potty:

I will never make you go poopie in your diaper. It will always be up to you. But if you are not going to go poopie in your diaper, then you will go poopie in this little pink potty. Okay?

And then she remembered her reply to him: Yes, Daddy.

Fueled with the need to listen to her Daddy and abide by her promise, she relaxed her frame. And the movement started happening. It felt no different than at any other time, save for the urgency of its release. She shuddered at the relief but also at the fact that she was being watched. There were no stall walls, no closed doors and this idea of no privacy was something she didn’t believe she would need to adjust to. That, however, wasn’t the case.

Luckily, Hunter was prepared to lighten the mood – knowing full well that, if he got her laughing hard enough, everything would come out just fine and perhaps with another world record setting pace.

“Would you like me to push down on the top of your head?” Hunter asked with a serious tone, keeping a smile from forming on his face – Veronica raising an eyebrow at what he meant as she shook her head no. “If I push down on the top of your head, that would make it all come out faster, wouldn’t it?”

Veronica smiled behind her pacifier, knowing what he was doing. Again, she shook her head no.

“You’re right. I guess I shouldn’t,” Hunter said, then pausing to allow her smile to grow … waiting, like Chinese water torture, until she reacted with a snort of laughter – a reaction he shortly got from her and then kept talking. “You see, if I push down too hard on the top of your head, you might shoot straight up like a rocket. It’s sort of like the downside to success. If I help you achieve the goal, then I’ll have to peel you off the ceiling afterwards.”

Then he stopped talking, but she knew he wasn’t done yet. He was just waiting. Sinking her teeth into the nipple of her pacifier, she aimed to prevent herself from laughing. She knew if she laughed, it would only encourage him to continue. He didn’t need any more encouragement. And if he got her laughing hard enough, she would start peeing.

This was another one of those games they played with each other on a regular basis. He would often try to get her to laugh right after he finished changing her diaper.

“I mean, honestly, if ya think about it, you oughta bend in half and stick your feet straight up in the air – so when the rocket propulsion shoots you skyward, you could just put your feet on the ceiling to stop it when you got up there. Either that, or I attach a seat belt to the little potty itself. Do you know what color of seat belt you would want?” he asked her, Veronica slowly shaking her head no, tears streaming out of her eyes from the suppression of laughter. “Of course, if you were strapped to the little potty, then the little potty would probably have to go along with you, if the rocket propulsion happened anyway. So I should just buy you a parachute and be done with it. That’s seems like the safest thing to do.”

Then he paused again, Veronica covering her ears and closing her eyes. She knew he still wasn’t done and her laughter was so close to happening, it would only take one more bit of silly rambling from him in order to open the flood gates … and probably also complete the movement as well.

“You don’t like potty humor, huh?” he asked, then pausing again – more streams of suppressed laughter rolling down her cheeks. “Hmm. I can understand that …………… it’s the butt of all jokes.”

And that was all it took. Spitting her pacifier out, she howled with laughter – the flood gates indeed opening up and releasing a full stream in the little potty … then completing the movement.

He somehow knew how to get her to break so easily and could do it every time. Though a mystery, she always enjoyed losing to him.

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she exhaled the same – the expression of physical relief in her body language making clear she was done and she felt so much better and that everything was okay … just like Daddy said it would be.

“On your knees, Sweetie,” he said softly, placing his hand on her back and helping her kneel off the potty – her knees gently coming to rest on the bathroom floor. “Good girl.”

Bending her over completely until the side of her face came to rest on the floor, he picked up her pacifier from the floor and put it in his shirt pocket. Veronica really wanted to be nursing on her pacifier at that moment, but she had spit it out when she started laughing and now she was in a very vulnerable position.

“Daddy is so proud of you,” he stated calmly.

Oh, my. A mixture of messages. What did he mean? He gave her the ‘good girl’ statement and then the ‘proud of you’ statement with a softened voice but he also made her get down on her knees and stick her hiney up in the air.

Had she done something wrong? Was she about to get spanked?

Quite to the contrary, she did everything right. And she wasn’t about to get spanked. She was about to get wiped.

He picked up her pacifier from the floor and put it in his shirt pocket, Veronica really wanting to be nursing on her pacifier at that moment. But it was a lesson to learn. Spitting the pacifier out meant she would lose it for a while.

Hunter reached to the back of the big people toilet, picking up the wipe pack, powder and diaper he got from the nursery changing table shelves a bit ago – placing them on the bathroom floor.

Oh! That was why he went into the nursery just a minute ago.

Then he opened the pack of wipes, taking one out and placing his hand on her lower back. From her vantage point, she could see out through the opened bathroom door – into the nursery and to the other side of that room. Right next to her crib was one of the nightlights with a unicorn cover. She stared at it until her eyesight went blurry again. The soft light from it lost all details as it turned into a fuzzy bit of illumination.

Her mind searched for safety again, enticing her to submit and follow its lead. She felt the baby wipe being placed on her poopy rosebud. It felt really cold …REALLY COLD.

Then he wiped upward, following the belief that a girl should always be wiped in one motion, from front to back. Given her current position, front to back was upside down. Hunter always used baby wipes on her when he changed her anyway. Thusly, baby wipes were nothing new for her. But he had never used one on her rosebud. He may well have passed over her hiney hole lightly but never to thoroughly clean her back there. So it was a new experience for her to feel it and just a bit more shocking, in the current position.

He took out a second baby wipe and cleaned her backside with it again and this was when her brain turned to mush. The tingly feeling danced all over her body, including in her most private places. She felt weak but awakened in senses, dizzy but still with control of her equilibrium, lightheaded but without a lack of air and excited with a fast-beating heart.

And above all else, she felt a swell of affection – an overdose of love for the person who had made her feel so wonderful. This was a state of mind she needed and could definitely get used to.

Oh, what Heavenly bliss.

“I think this puts to rest the belief that a poop fairy comes down and puts poopie in the toilet when you’re sitting on it. Instead, the poop fairy flies down and rubs the poopie all over your hiney and then drops some in the toilet,” he said, easing her down onto her back on the bathroom floor and then returning the pacifier to her mouth – Veronica smiling behind it immediately … his silliness prevailing once again. “Just between you and me, I think the poop fairy is pretty sick to playing with poopie like that.”

Veronica covered her face with her hands, laughter tickling her funny bone. He came up with some of the most unexpected things to say and she broke every time.

He took wipes to her bottom cheeks and then eased her down onto her back, turning her over and choosing to diaper her right there. Taking the diaper she had been wearing off from its dangle around her ankles, he put the used wipes inside it. And then he reached for the new diaper, unfolding it. Instinctively, she brought bent knees up to her chest and parted her thighs.

“Be a good baby for Daddy,” he whispered so sweetly that her blurry eyes and dizziness and fluffy thoughts all intensified.

He slid the diaper underneath her slightly raised bottom and then he took a baby wipe to her front, Veronica bending her arms at her elbows and bringing her hands up to rest on either side of her head as she nursed slowly but steadily on her pacifier. Then he coated her bottom with baby powder, the silkiness making her whimper as he caressed it evenly across her cheeks.

Moving to the front, he coated her with powder from hip to hip and down between her legs, along the sides of her sweetness.

Looking up at the bathroom ceiling, she left out an even softer whimper as he caressed that powder out evenly, his fingers knowing how to caress her most tender parts. It pushed her right to the edge of arousal but didn’t take her there.

This touch would, however, plant the seed of that emotion within her, something that hadn’t happened for a few days.

He folded the front of her diaper up into place, fastening the tapes snuggly at her hips. She was once again enveloped in the powdery softness of a diaper, where she longed to be and where she knew she belonged. He helped her sit up slowly, giving her a moment to get her bearings as he gathered up the used diaper and filed it away in the trash can.

Then he stood her to her feet and walked her back out to the main room. Veronica could feel how everything was different when fully submitting to her mindset and when welcoming regression – as opposed to not fully embracing all it had to offer her.

Oh, what Heavenly bliss.

Also read: The First of Many Hand Bathings to Come

Last Snow