Baby bottles, car seats, diapers, mommies, littles, and making a mess. We explore the online ABDL community with Lucy Valentine of the Boonta Vista Podcast.
For access to the full episode (+ all miniseries + all premium QAA episodes) go to http://patreon.com/qaa and subscribe for just $5 a month.
Lucy Valentine: https://twitter.com/LucyXIV
The Boonta Vista Podcast: https://boontavista.com/
Liv Agar: https://linktr.ee/livagar
Theme by Nick Sena, additional music by Pontus Berghe. Editing by Corey Clotz.
And this is The Perverts Podcast, where we venture into horny online subcultures and
take you along for the ride.
It was 2pm and I was on my knees in the kitchen rummaging through the cluttered cupboards
in search of a breakfast morsel when I found it.
A sealed plastic package containing a plump little cake, a madeleine, which looked as though it had been molded in the fluted scallop of a pilgrim's shell.
Mechanically, and warily considering the dull day and prospect of a depressing morrow, I opened the package and raised the madeleine to my lips.
No sooner had it touched my palate, a shudder ran through my whole body and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary changes that were taking place.
An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, but individual, detached, with no suggestion of its origin.
And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory.
This new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence.
Or rather, this essence was not in me.
It was myself.
I had ceased now to feel mediocre, accidental, mortal.
Whence could it have come to me, this all-powerful joy?
I was conscious that it was connected with the taste of cake, but that it infinitely transcended those savors.
Could not, Indeed, be of the same nature as theirs.
Whence did it come?
What did it signify?
How could I seize upon and define it?
I was in a high chair, stranded there by my mother who was busying herself in an adjacent room.
Crumbs of a madeleine lay before me on the attached tray table.
The year was 1986, and a sullen breeze was blowing from a cracked door just out of sight, the smell of summer grass and the distant din of cutlery being jostled.
I looked down at my chest, covered in a bright red plastic bib, the curve of which contained a mix of pureed carrot, saliva, and cake crumbs.
I felt my bowels loosen and my diaper warm considerably.
And that's when the Fisher-Price chatter phone started ringing.
Its haunting bug eyes were vibrating as I watched my tiny baby hand reach out and pick the receiver up from its cradle.
Then, words, spoken by me.
Whiv, the line was twist.
I don't know how.
I know.
They cut the hard line.
This line is not a viable exit.
What the hell happened?
We don't know.
Some bug in the Proustian Reverie Protocol.
You need to get out now.
We might not be able to extract you if this goes on for much longer.
Are there any agents?
Only your mother.
Goddammit.
You have to focus.
There is a phone.
Kitchen wall.
You can make it.
Alright.
Go.
I dropped the phone and squirted my way out of the high chair, splattering my face with the contents of the bib as I tumbled onto the ground, smacking my big soft head on the tile floor.
The pain was excruciating, and I could now clearly feel a big wet shit sloshing around my diaper.
But it didn't matter.
None of this was real.
I needed to make it to the landline receiver next to the mess of post-it notes and just above the kitchen counter.
I know what you're doing in there.
Get up, Julian.
You're fine.
in there.
I could hear her making her way down the stairs.
There was no time to lose.
Get up, Julian.
You're fine.
Get up.
I dragged a stepstool across the kitchen, bleeding profusely, barely holding onto consciousness.
Teetering, I climbed the stepstool and dragged myself onto the kitchen counter, knocking my fat little knees against its sharp edge and screaming out in pain.
I raised my arm towards the receiver just as Agent Mom came into sight.
I could see the look of concern on her face.
She was inches away.
My fingers fumbled against the hard plastic shell just as I felt her hands take hold of my Oshkosh Bogosh overalls.
That's it.
We got him now.
Just as she pulled me away, I finally got a decent two-handed grip on the receiver.
I awoke strapped to a large metallic stretcher by a five-point restraint.
I was in some sort of medical warehouse, unable to move my arms or legs.
Turning my head, I could see rows of others like me, men strapped to gurneys, a pump attached to each of their genitals, draining their life fluid into a web of tubes leading into a large, gleaming metal vat.
This was one of those places Dr. Jordan Peterson had warned us about, some form of communist milking factory where men were harvested for their most precious cargo.
A voice came over a loudspeaker.
Welcome to the real world, Julian.
I screamed into my gas mask.
Then my vision blurred, and I heard the loudspeaker voice once again as I slipped into oblivion.
Welcome to another episode of Perverts.
Our guest this week is Lucy Valentine of the Bunta Vista podcast.
Welcome, Lucy.
Yeah, hi.
I feel myself taking immediate psychic damage from this.
That was the most detailed intro Julian's done.
That was graphic.
Yeah, what can I say?
Did the adult baby stuff, it really resonated.
Yeah, it really brought me back.
Yeah, I do think Proust would have been like an adult baby guy.
Absolutely.
Yeah.
Maybe not diapers, but something else.
Some other like, like maybe a car seat.
Some of them really like car seats.
That's fair.
A little wood rattle.
Any sort of like thing from your childhood related to like being raised by your mom, they're like, they're attached to.
So.
Oh, wow.
I know nothing about adult babies.
Completely blowing my mind.
I thought it was all diapers.
Have you ever diped up, Lucy?
Have I ever diapered?
Diped up, yeah.
No, personally, no.
So I don't know if I'd like it or not, you know?
Yeah.
I have not worn a diaper as an adult, but it was pretty cool as a kid.
That's true.
I don't know if I remember that specifically, but... I do hope this episode awakens something in someone where they're like, hmm.
Yeah.
There's a reason why I let Liv do all the research on this one.
I was like, too close.
Well, let's get right into it then.
Diapers.
Some adults use them.
Most adults don't use them.
And today's episode is going to be about the small group of fully grown individuals who wear them not out of necessity, but by choice.
They call themselves diaper lovers.
Which to me, that sounds like you are buying a six-pack as a snack.
That does sound like they want to eat the diapers, yeah.
Yeah.
And while for some, there is a sexual component to this, for many, they just feel comfortable walking around their house wearing a nappy, as many of them call them.
Some like to pee in their diapers, others like to mess them, which is what they call shitting.
And, as I've learned, a few of them also enjoy releasing a third bodily fluid that I do not wish to go into.
Oh, no.
I don't think babies do that.
Let's definitely not talk about that on Perverts.
Oh, it'll come back, Doran.
You've been listening to a sample of the Perverts podcast.
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