Caution/Welcome. The following is a gay fantasy about thirteen-year-old Aaron Carter who while on his 2001 summer American tour with his sister and Sweden's A-team proves what a trooper he is. This story does not reflect nor imply the real sexuality nor fetishes of this hot young singer. It is the seventh of stand alone stories in a series of Aaron Carter and Friends fanfic gay fantasies and follows the story "Aaron and the Doctor" in which he found out he had a kidney infection. If you do not like reading gay fantasies about teenage boys or celebrities, or about urine and diapers, this is where you stop and hit the back or delete key. This story is posted at free gay adult story sites for the purpose of adult entertainment. Lyrics are copyright of Aaron Carter. Permission is not given to copy electronically for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other than described without the permission of the author. Comments, story suggestions and photos of Aaron in his diaper and/or going wee-wee can be sent to the author J. O. Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com
AARON: THE SHOW MUST GO ON
My Aunty told her, I shoulda told her
No I'm not kidding
That's what she told her
3, 6, 9
The goose drank wine
Aaron inhaled deeply and tried to ignore the message his bladder was urgently sending to his brain. Maybe they should drop this song from the program. It seemed to be particularly suggestive.
The monkey chew tobacco on the streetcar line
The line broke, the monkey got choked
And they all went to heaven in a little rowboat.
Damn. He couldn't hold it any longer. As he dashed off the stage, the A-teens exchanged glances and his sister rolled her eyes. Well, fuck her. It wasn't his fault he'd picked up a kidney infection. Well, maybe it was. The doctor had never really explained how he'd gotten it. He and Doctor Redderik had, well, gotten sidetracked by other things. Aaron smiled as he stood before the urinal and began to relieve himself and thought about his session with the doctor at emergency yesterday. It certainly had been unusual, and certainly would not have happened had he been back in Florida and seen his family doctor. Now he and his family doctor doing what he and Doctor Redderik had done, that was an amusing thought.
Anyway, Doctor Redderik had given him pills to help clear up the infection, and had told him to get lots of rest and drink lots of liquids to flush the infection out. Flushing was not a problem. He flushed all day July 4 and all this morning, gallons, hour on the hour. Rest was a different story. They were only two weeks into a nine-week tour. Forty-eight gigs in twenty- eight states. His mother had considered cancelling his Kansas performance that evening, but that would have been a major hassle. They would have to absorb the costs at such a late date and there would be a lot of upset fans, besides bad publicity, and it would not be fair to his sister or the A-teens. They decided to play it by ear, or by bladder so to speak. If he couldn't put on a full performance, he could at least put on part, and his sister and the A-teens would have to fill in. The fans wouldn't be happy, but it was better than no show at all. Besides, he had performances the rest of the week.
As Aaron was changing backstage at Memorial Hall that night, his mother knocked on the door, and presented a solution she'd come up with on the drive from the airport so he could put in a full performance, as his fans were expecting.
"Mooommmmm!" Aaron responded, his wide eyes reflecting his dismay and disbelief.
"But this way you'd be able to perform every song in the program with minimal disruption. If you're healthy enough of course. If you're in pain."
"I'm not in any pain. That's not the problem," Aaron responded, not exactly sure how to explain what the problem was with her plan.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"I don't."
"You have a show to perform."
"I know."
"Well then?"
"But, Leslie and the A-teens and the stage hands, they will know what I'm doing!"
"Everyone knows already."
"Well, they know why I'm taking the breaks, but not, well, not, well I guess they know that too," he said dejectedly.
"So it's settled."
"But where will I do it?"
"We'll find a place, somewhere off stage and private, but close."
They did find a place, on stage actually, a curtained area right off stage right, with a few large props strategically placed to increase his privacy. He didn't like it, not one bit, but he had to admit it was a solution. He also knew interrupting his performance four or five times during a show in addition to the regular breaks had not been appreciated by his fans in Oklahoma City. Fans were important, even to Aaron who grumbled about the rigours of being a teenage celeb but who did like the attention, and the performing. Bottom line was, he loved to sing, and to share his voice.
So after the opening of the show by the A-teens, he inhaled deeply and stepped out onto the stage. Kansas City, July 5, 2001, Memorial Hall, the site of what was to be the most embarrassing day of his life.
3, 6, 9
The goose drank wine
The monkey chew tobacco on the streetcar line
The line broke, the monkey got choked,
And they all went to heaven in a little rowboat.
The song finished, Aaron dashed offstage and into his improvised sanctum. His older sister Leslie, and the A-teens, Marie, Amit, Sara, and Dhani were backstage but discretely looking the other way or pretending to be occupied. Actually, they were occupied, but they made a special effort to be pretending not to notice him. They did of course. They knew why he was slipping behind the curtain, and what he was about to do. They knew he was about to piss in a pee pot, just like a little three-year-old kid. Well, it wasn't his fault.
Pulling down his fly, he slipped his hand inside his pants and boxers and quickly pulled out his dick. He had to go, bad. Inhaling deeply, he aimed for the pot and let loose. His piss rushed out in a torrent, splashing into the pot. The distinctive hollow sound of a stream hitting a plastic bowl, followed by the changing resonance as the bowl began to fill, and the bubbling of the stream now falling into a piss pool resounded across the stage, and echoed into the hall. Oh fuck! He was wearing his cordless microphone and had forgotten to turn it off!
"Aaron," whispered his sister Leslie, and her voice was picked up by the mike.
Aaron wanted to die. He prayed for God to strike him with lightening right then and there, right there as he pissed into his little pee pot. If not that, then let him trip and fall face forward and drown in his piss pot rather than go back out on the stage to perform his next song. He fumbled with the mike, trying to turn it off. He'd done that a million times, but this time he couldn't find the switch. The gurgling sound of a piss pot being filled echoed in his ears. He tried to stem the flow with his dick muscles, but he could not. Fucking shit all mighty! Now everyone knew. Every Goddamn one in the hall. Tomorrow it would probably be splashed across the headlines of every pulp magazine in the world. Splashed was an appropriate description.
He stood there holding his limp hose in his right hand. Why could he not die? He couldn't step back out on the stage. Not after what had just happened. The silence was awesome. He could hear his heart pounding. It was so loud he checked his mike to make sure he'd finally turned it off. An hour had to have gone by. He knew it was only seconds. What was he going to do? They were waiting for him. He had to go back on stage. The show had to go on.
Blushing a bright red and hoping nobody would notice under the lights, he stepped back out from his not so private little bathroom. Leslie and the A-teens and the stage hands had all turned their backs or disappeared behind curtains and props to make it easier for him. Dhani Lennevald's shoulders shook. The sixteen-about-to-be-seventeen-year-old could not help it. It was just too funny. Embarrassing as hell, but wickedly funny. He snorted as he stifled a chuckle. He didn't want to be rude, and he wasn't being mean. It was just too, too funny.
Aaron didn't find it in the least bit funny. He knew Dhani's reaction was exactly how the others were feeling. He knew what the six-foot tall Swedish singer was thinking. What he was thinking everyone in the audience was thinking. They were sitting there staring up at the stage as he stepped back out, whispering, giggling, snickering. Did you hear what I heard? They were clapping, loudly. Were they just being polite? Were they clapping because of the performance he'd just put on off stage? Aaron's face was so red his ears were hot and he was sure he was about to have a nosebleed. Was the clapping especially loud? Was it because they were especially impressed by the tones of his pissing act, or because they were embarrassed for him and trying to make up for their embarrassment, his and theirs.
As the band picked up and he prepared to begin singing, he looked out at the crowd. Fortunately with the lights illuminating the stage, it was difficult to make out their faces. He just as soon preferred not being able to see them. Of course it was all in his imagination, but they had to have known what had just happened, and they had to have known it was him.
His fucking sister had announced it through his mike hadn't she? Of course it wasn't her fault. She was just trying to tell him what was happening. He knew that.
Suddenly aware that he'd missed his cue and the band was faltering, he began to sing and they picked up. He concentrated on the lyrics, blocking out what had just happened. He always put his whole heart into his performance, but he put in even more now in his effort to forget. Of course his bladder would not let him forget. It seemed like he had to go even worse that night, more often and for longer durations, and even though he remembered to turn off his mike, each time he pulled out his cock and began to piss it sounded like a waterfall, or a horse pissing, or an elephant, or whatever, and he was sure you could hear it through the hall without a mike.
Nobody said anything after the performance, but he knew the A-teens and the band and his mother and the whole world were thinking about it. Aaron thought about it. He even had a dream about it, between getting up half a dozen times to take a leak. As important as it was that the show go on, it was going to be impossible. He was exhausted not getting a sound sleep at night afraid he'd piss the hotel bed, and then having to fly to wherever they were performing next, rehearsing, and then performing only to repeat it all the next day. Sure he had a day or two break between every four or five days of performing on this tour, but those days were spent traveling or rehearsing.
July 6. St. Louis, Missouri, Fox Theater. He was wrong about Kansas City. That was his second most embarrassing day. July 6 beat it all to hell. He'd been right, at least about his mother. She was concerned about him, and she had been thinking about what had happened. Now she had another idea. Like the piss pot idea, she presented it to him in the privacy of one of the dressing rooms backstage half an hour before the performance. It wasn't that she was picking that time to put pressure on him. It was simply that it took her that long to put the plan together. He looked at the package in the decorative blue, purple and orangish-red striped plastic wrapping. Depend Undergarment, Easy Fit. A diaper! A damn fucking diaper! He stared at the package. He'd never seen diapers for teenagers, or adults. Why did they have to put a picture on the package? What else could an undergarment be? He looked up at his mom with all the angst and desperation a teenager can in his eyes.
"You gotta be kidding."
"It solves the, well, you know, the danger of, well, the microphone." The danger of being heard pissing in a piss pot all through the hall is what she meant. "And you won't have to keep ducking off the stage."
It took Aaron a moment to understand what she meant by that last statement. "You mean, you expect me to, well, awwwww, Moommmmmm!"
"Nobody's going to know."
"Nobody?"
"Most of the outfits for this performance are baggy enough. And this style of undergarment is tight fitting. It says right here on the package ."
"You read the package?" Aaron asked, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening. He could not believe this.
"Well, of course, it has been a few years since I had to buy any diapers undergarments."
"I can't wear those! No way!"
"They make these a lot easier to put on than they did when I had to buy diapers for you and Angel twelve years ago," his mother continued, reading the plastic wrapping. "Look, it has adjustable strap tabs by Velcro."
"Oh great. I can see it in the papers now. New fashion wear sported by Aaron Carter in his American tour, Depends by Velcro."
"Aaron."
"So Aaron, what is it, boxers or briefs? Why, neither, Mike, its Depend Undergarments."
"Look, honey, I know how you feel, and hopefully this infection will clear up soon, and you'll be able to put this all behind you ."
"Very funny, Mom," Aaron responded. His mother looked at him uncertainly.
"Behind me," he said, nodding to the package she was holding. She had to smile, and then chuckle, and so did he.
"The doctor did say the medication could take a week or two. You can't be dashing off stage five or six times a performance like last night, and I know you were embarrassed doing it. This way nobody will even know except you and I."
"All right. Tonight I'll try it," Aaron agreed. She was just trying to help. And it would be a secret compared to pissing in a pot with a dozen people backstage listening.
She left him and he sat down and read the package. "Improved Ultra Absorb-Loc Protection quickly absorbs and locks fluids away." Oh gross! "Wide straps provide a comfortable, secure fit." He could just see the diapers sliding down during one of his dance routines and ending up around his ankles, or even worse, hanging out the back of the leg of his cargo pants and him not noticing. "Reusable strap tabs." Oh great feature! "Soft, cloth-like moisture barrier is comfortable, durable and leak-proof." Why the hell couldn't he be leak-proof?
He opened up the plastic wrapping and pulled one of the disposable underpants out, holding them by the tips of his fingers as if they were already soiled. There were thirty of them for fucksake! A paper fell out and he picked it up. "Directions: How to put on Depend easyfit Undergarments: (one size fits all)." Oh maaannnnn! "Press plastic strap tab against fuzzy cloth on back of undergarment." Fuzzy cloth? What was he, a baby? "Press plastic strap tab against fuzzy cloth on front." Shit, were these written for a moron? Maybe baby was supposed to read it himself. Baby was, he thought bitterly. Why was this happening to him?
A rap on his door caused him to jump as if he'd been caught looking at a porno magazine or something. He glanced about desperately. He could slip the undergarment under the pillow, but where do you hide a gaudy blue, purple and orange striped bag of twenty-nine others?
"The A-teens are about to go on stage," called his mother.
"Okay, thanks, I'll be out in a jiffy." Or should that have been 'I'll be out in a nappie?'
Aaron quickly stripped off his day clothes and his boxers, and looking at the undergarment, stuck the tabs on and stepped into it. Something was not right. He looked at the instructions. "Step into the undergarment with blue patterned absorbent side facing body." Okay, he had them inside out. Now what? He looked at the instructions again. Perhaps he was a moron. Maybe he should call his mother in to diaper him. "Pull elastic straps over hips." Okay. That had to have been wrong. They gaped open in the front. He looked at the instructions again. "Adjust to fit snugly by rearranging placement of plastic strap tabs on front of undergarment." Oh. Okay. That did help. He slipped his cargo pants on over top. You could not see the bulge, not really. He finished dressing and headed for the stage.
He watched the A-teens go through their routine to open the show, and then his older sister Leslie perform a number from her single Like Wow. He waited the appropriate time for the crowd to express their appreciation, and to build up their expectation, and then he walked on stage, mike in hand, and went into his first song. It felt strange having the undergarment on. He could feel the top band of the cloth-like moisture barrier against his skin, and it was not cloth-like. He could feel the gentle elastic leg gathers, and they were not gentle. He could feel the Stay-Dry liner and it chaffed.
He tried to forget he was there on stage before a thousand teen and preteen girls and guys in a pair of diapers. The lights were hot. He had to have some water in the break between songs or his voice would not hold out for two hours. He tried not to think what he was going to eventually do, but he couldn't help think about it. He'd been pissing buckets for two weeks, and there was no reason this night should be different. Singing helped him forget, but every song had an ending. When it happened, was he supposed to keep singing or what? He couldn't keep singing, not while he was taking a leak! But he couldn't just stop in the middle of a song and stand there like a statue either. Hopefully he could wait until between songs, and do it while they were clapping.
As he began his sixth song, he felt the pressure in his groin increasing. He tried to ignore it. Maybe this time he'd be able to hold it back until the mid-show break. As the song progressed, so did the need. He wasn't going to hold this one back until any damn break. He was going to be lucky to hold it back until the end of the song.
The car door slammed
And they're walking up the steps
I guess life is good with ten seconds left
Grounded
As Aaron struck his pose and the clapping started, he could hold back no more. As a thousand teens and preteens clapped and cheered, he began to piss. At first it was just a little squirt, and then a little more, and he hoped that might be all there was going to be. Maybe if he just made a couple little squirts it would be enough to relieve the pressure for a couple more songs. He should have known better, The third squirt was longer, and immediately followed by a steady stream flowing across the right front of the diaper. Was he supposed to place his penis in a particular position when he'd put the diaper on? It hadn't mentioned anything about that in the instructions.
His stream flowed quickly, as it always did, and he felt a warmth and moistness spread over his stomach, and then flood down over his groin. His peehole burned pleasantly as his piss flooded over his stomach and soaked into the diaper. He bowed and grinned out at the cheering crowd as he thoroughly pissed himself. He could feel the material, whatever it was, getting heavier as it absorbed his hot piss. He had to look down. There was no wet stain on the front of his pants despite the fact he had to have pissed a galleon into his diaper. Well, probably not, but it sure seemed like he had. He dared to move a leg. Nothing trickled down it.
He could smell it, hot, steaming piss, but he couldn't see it. The others watched, wondering why he was waiting. He smiled and raised the microphone to his lips. Fortunately his stream was done.
My mama told me I'm too young to love
But I know what I know and I can't get enough
As Aaron began to sing and move, he tried to concentrate on the words and on what was happening in his pants at the same time. The Depends did what they said they would do. They locked the moisture in. He could feel nothing dribbling down his leg as he'd feared he would, and there was no darkening stain on his pants. He began to sing more forcefully, more confidently.
Thirty minutes later he had to piss again, and this time he could not wait for the song to end. Belting out the words, he relaxed, and just let it happen. He was already wet, and his diapers had soaked up his piss the first time, so what was there to worry? Once again he felt his piss stream flow across his belly to the right side and rise up and then flood back down over his cock while he continued to piss. It was a strange feeling, feeling his urine flooding down over his dick while his peehole burned with the flow of piss streaming out of it.
As he continued the performance, he could feel the weight of his sodden underpants now, especially around the crotch where he assumed his piss had collected. His balls felt very warm, and the warmth and the idea of pissing in front of thousands of fans and being in diapers without them knowing it started to get him aroused, and once he started to get aroused, he could not stop his dick. When it came to arousal, his dick had a mind of its own, and before he could do anything about it, he was singing "Aaron's Party Come and Get It" with a raging boner in a piss- filled diaper. It was wicked, and despite the fact he was conscious of every square inch of his soaked diaper and the aching of his projecting bone, it was so erotic he felt totally wired.
When they left the theater, Aaron, his sister, and his mother were taken back to the hotel in one car and the A-teens in a second vehicle, and Aaron was glad that they did not have one of those minivans to take them all together this time. The smell of urine was distinct and very noticeable, and he sat there feeling ashamed as they sped down the street, knowing how his mother must be feeling. Sometimes after a performance, especially if the hall was particularly hot or if it was small and the audience was packed, he was so skunky with sweat even his most adoring fan would not think him sexy. He wondered what his fans would think if they could smell him right then. He glanced repeatedly at his sister. If she recognized the odor, she wasn't giving any indication. Maybe, just maybe, she thought it was sweat.
"You were awesome tonight little brother," Leslie observed. Even though she was only a year older than he, she liked to call him that. So did his older brother Nick, but Nick was eight years older than he was and had some cause.
"What do you mean?"
"The last half, that's the best I've heard you sing since the tour began."
"Yeah? Thanks."
"Leslie's right," his mother observed, and as she looked at her son she gave him a quick, knowing smile.
Actually, he had to admit he hadn't felt so good performing as he had that night. This Depends Undergarments thing wasn't so bad. To tell the truth, as he inhaled and allowed the scent of his urine fill his lungs, the odor was not that bad either. After all, it was just piss, and it was out of his own body, and the doctor had told him piss was actually a very pure product despite what the layman thought. Besides all that, his genitals felt warm and cozy in the thick, sodden diaper. It was nice. It was sort of strange feeling the wet diaper pressed against his butt mind you. Strange, but not bad either.
Arriving back at the hotel, he headed straight for the bathroom and examined himself in the mirror. Not a single hint of a stain, and though he could tell the bulge, it was not that noticeable, and you had to expect something considering the amount of piss he was packing. He stripped off his clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. The diapers were definitely soaked, and were hanging at the crotch and bulging out lumpily here and there. He turned and adjusting the mirrors, examined the back. They were soaked, and you could see a definite yellow tint to them. He turned again and struck a couple poses, the seductive poses that the PR men had him strike for advertising the tour. He was cute. In fact he looked damn cute in diapers. He wondered if he should contact Depend and offer to be their model. He smiled, and then giggled. Damn, he hadn't felt this good in weeks.
Removing the wet diaper, he was surprised at the sodden weight. He showered thoroughly with a lot of soap, and of course as usually happened when he lathered himself up, he got an erection. He was thirteen after all. He debated jerking off, but he'd have to be fast. His sister and mother would want to use the bathroom yet. He decided to wait until he could take his time and enjoy it.
That night as he lay in the strange hotel room bed he thought about what had happened, and how it had felt pissing up on stage, and especially how it felt to piss himself. Memories of the warmth and wet feeling as his urine had flooded over his belly and down over his genitals, and how erotic it had been getting a boner in his piss-soaked Depend gave him a violent erection. He was sharing the room with his mother and sister, who were sleeping in the bed next to the window. He wondered if he should get one off in the bathroom. He listened carefully, and slowly rose up on an elbow and looked at the other bed. They were sound asleep.
Reaching down, he eased down his pajama bottoms just off his hips incase he had to pull them up in a hurry and slipped his fingers about his dick. It felt so good squeezing it. What with being exhausted and sharing a room with his mother and sister, he hadn't jerked off in bed since beginning the tour, and had only done it a couple times in the shower, when he was especially horny. He slowly began stroking his cock. It felt large compared to how he remembered it feeling. He knew it was growing. He'd read somewhere that the more you did it the bigger your cock grew. He didn't know if that was true, but if it was, he was going to have one humongous cock by the time he reached Nick's age. Actually, he should ask his older brother if that was true. Nick has one hell of a nice size dick.
As he continued to slowly jack off beside his sleeping mother and sister, his thoughts turned from Nick to his experience that evening. He thought of how it had felt pissing himself, and how erotic it was doing it up on stage, and how erotic it had been standing there with thousands of teens cheering, his cock pressing out his sodden diapers, and his wet undergarment clinging to his ass. The thought triggered a reaction much sooner than Aaron had expected, and he didn't have time to do anything about it. He yanked up his pajama bottoms in time to prevent staining the sheets. It wouldn't be the first time he had cum stains in his pajamas. He slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom to clean up, and to take a leak.
July 7, Chicago Illinois, Rosemont Theater. Before the end of the second song he'd wet his diaper, and by half time they were heavy and sodden and he had a boner. He pissed at the end of a song, he pissed as he began a song, and he pissed himself in the middle of a song. He waited until the pain from his bladder was so strong he had to let loose, and he enjoyed the hot flood of piss as it soaked into the undergarment, and into his skin. He pissed when he first felt the urge, enjoying being able to sing as his urine flowed into his diaper. Some people sang in the shower, so why not sing while taking a leak? Of course at his age he'd never heard of golden showers, or water sports, or rubber wear. He'd have been shocked by the number of men, and boys, who were turned on by piss, their own and other's.
He dared to occasionally reach down and press his hand against his sodden diaper. Pressing the hot, wet material against the lower part of his abdomen and against his butt felt great actually. He even dared to reach down and press his hand against his bone. You could not see it with the padding of the diaper and his baggy pants, but you could feel it. He even got daring and with the last change of costume, he loosened the belt of his trousers so that the reusable hip straps and the fuzzy cloth of the undergarment showed above his pants. It was only an inch, even less, and you'd just think it was his boxers, unless you looked closely, or if you wore Depend Undergarments. Dancing on the stage and singing a love song with his undergarment showing was so erotic he could not believe the rush it gave him.
When he got back to the hotel room and headed for the bathroom, his sister handed him a Walgreens bag with a smile and a whisper that it was a little gift from herself and the A-teens. Closing and locking the bathroom door, he opened the bag and found three items. The first was an eight-ounce spray bottle that looked like a Windex spray bottle he'd seen around the house for cleaning windows, except this was called Proshield Foam and Spray Incontinent and Total Body cleaner. According to the label it was a gentle non-aerosol spray bottle containing a "no rinse moisturizing foam and cleanser." The second was a small blue and white jar with a blue cross and two overlapping leaves, two ounces of Little Forest Therapeutic Botanical Diaper Rash Cream. The third was a cylindrical container, three ounces of Little Forest Therapeutic Botanical Baby Powder.
At first he was devastated. His sister knew about the diapers after all. And so did the A- teens. Of course that should not have been a surprise. You can't stand beside a guy in pissy diapers under hot stage lights and not smell him. Then he was angry. This was not a fucking joke. He had a medical problem, and they had an attitude. Then he noticed the card in the bag. Fuming at this point, he was going to rip it up, but decided to look at it first. "To Aaron, for performing beyond the call of duty, but not the call of nature. Hang in there, we're all pulling for you." All five of them had signed it. He had to smile, and then to laugh. He looked at the gifts again. Why not?
Evidently the first thing he needed was the body cleaner. He read the instructions on the bottle. "For foaming action, turn nozzle to the on position and pull tip forward, for spray push tip back. Spray on affected area and wipe off. No rinse needed. For use as a shampoo." Shampoo? How the hell did a baby get piss on his head? The image of him laying on his back, his legs thrown up over his head, and pissing in his hair came to mind and his dick twitched with the idea. Naw, never! But it was an interesting idea. His dick twitched harder. He could use the stuff to shampoo his hairs, if he had hairs. The doctor had shaved them off as part of his supposed examination back in Oklahoma City. He read further. "Spray directly on hair and lightly work through with a towel. Comb hair out. No rinse necessary." Well, he'd had nice, curly blond hairs, but not exactly thick enough to comb out. He wondered if his patch would be thicker when it grew out again. He wondered if he should keep his pubes shaved. They felt sort of cool smooth. "Contents: purified water, cocoamphodiacetate" and a pile of other chemicals. Aaron chuckled. Purified water to which they added a dozen chemicals. Why bother with the purified?
Stripping off his clothes, he removed his soaked diaper and stood before the mirror. Picking up the cleanser, he primed it first as instructed, and then pulling the tip forward, he foamed his crotch, spraying the stuff over his smooth pubes and over his nuts and dick, causing his already semierect cock to get even harder. He worked it into his skin and rubbed it over his cock and balls. It felt good. He adjusted the mirrors and foamed his butt.
It looked funny with the shaving-cream like foam coating it. He worked it into his butt cheeks and up his butt crack and thoroughly scrubbed his bumhole. He wiped himself off. He did feel clean, and fresh.
He read the label on the cream jar. "Natural, effective, safe. Apply cream liberally to dry skin after washing with Baby Soap." Well, at least they didn't buy him baby soap. Mind you, it would probably be good for his skin. "So, Aaron, how do you keep your smooth, fresh complexion?" "Well, that's easy to explain, I use Little Forest Baby Soap."
Aaron smiled. You had to have a sense of humor considering what he was going through. He opened the jar and taking a bit of the cream on the tips of his fingers, he smeared it over his thighs and his stomach above his dick. It was smooth and creamy with a hint of coconut. As he rubbed it in, it left a cool sensation on his skin. He rubbed it over his butt, and along his buttcrack and butthole. His butthole really felt cool, like you might expect it to feel with a cold breeze blowing up his crack, an experience he'd actually never had. He thought of his mother applying the cream to his butthole little dicklet when he was a baby, and he thought of David or Justin doing that to him now. His growing cock stood straight up.
Finally came the Baby Powder, zinc oxide and kaolin clay, hypoallergenic, no artificial colors, no animal testing. . . . No animal testing? Aaron tried to imagine a scientist rolling a dog on its back and powdering its balls and dick sack, or a bunch of lab rats. He chucked as he pictured a bunch of diapered animals running around and the scientists checking them out for rashes. "Apply liberally to skin after allowing Diaper Rash Cream to dry completely, carefully shaking powder into diaper or into hand and applying to diaper area, paying close attention to creases and folds."
Aaron sprinkled the powder on his hand and applied it to the diaper area, paying close attention to the crease between his thigh and his testicles, and to his butt crack and butthole. The powder had a nice fresh smell. He payed close attention to his dick as he applied the powder to the stiff organ. It would never do to have a diaper rash there. He stroked it gently and squirmed with the pleasure. Facing the mirror, he watched the image jerking itself off. He was good looking, and his body, still boyishly smooth and contoured, was starting to develop a bit of definition, especially his chest. Soon, he hoped, he'd be getting chest hair, and arm pit hair. His cock felt good being stroked and his groin looked so fresh. He knew he should stop, or at least go aim it over the toilet, but it was so cool watching himself jerking off. He could not help finishing it right there, and as he watched it spurt out of his peehole in the mirror it was the hottest thing he'd done since he'd visited David on the coast. After he got dressed, he made sure he washed out the washbasin thoroughly.
As he got ready for bed later that night, he looked over at the soiled diaper in the basket under the sink and the idea suddenly popped into his head. Should he? That wasn't why his mother had bought them, but why not? He did have twenty-eight of them left.
He took one out of the plastic bag and put it on. The diaper was much more noticeable under his pajama bottoms than the diaper had been with the clothes he wore performing, but if they noticed, neither his sister nor his mother commented on it as he emerged from the bathroom and headed for his bed.
As he lie there thinking about what would happen later that night, he wondered if he should have done it. Suppose they leaked? They'd have the embarrassment of a soaked bed sheet the next day. That wouldn't be as big a problem if they were catching a flight to the next place he was performing, but they were performing in the same theater the next day, one of the few times on the tour where they had a concert in the same city two days in a row. They would be staying in the hotel the next night yet. He inhaled deeply. He knew he shouldn't worry. The underpants hadn't leaked when he'd been performing, and he'd jumped around a lot more than he'd ever twist in bed. Still, it was a worry. It took a long time for him to drift off and he was beginning to wonder if he was going to get any extra sleep this way or not.
When he had to leak he woke up. Force of habit. Maybe it was force of nature. Either way, he woke up, and wondered if he should get out of bed and relieve himself or just do it there lying in bed in his diaper. If he was going to wake up each time he had to take a piss this was going to be a waste of time. Waste of time. He chuckled on the double meaning of the word waste. He relaxed, but he was too tense. He had to piss but he could not. Closing his eyes, he tried to will himself to sleep. He tried so hard he only got tenser. He sighed, and forced himself to breathe slow and easy, just like he'd forced himself years ago when he tensed up before a performance.
Finally, slowly, he felt the first squirt of pee cross his stomach. He waited, he waited a long time. Now he did not have to go. Maybe this whole infection thing was over. Then came the second squirt, and then the explosive flow. It was strange laying there pissing himself, feeling his piss flowing over his groin and up over his stomach. It was different laying there on his back compared to pissing his diaper standing. He felt it flow between his legs and collect. He could feel the diaper soaking it up, causing it to wick up the back side. He lay there after, enjoying the warmth and wetness. He carefully reached down and felt the soft, cloth-like moisture barrier, along his stomach, across his butt, between his legs. He was dry.
The second and third time he pissed his diaper that night he slept right through them. Well, actually, one of the times he was vaguely aware of it happening and recalled thinking how great it felt and wondering why babies cried when it felt so good. He slept in, and when he awoke, he felt wonderful. It was the first time he'd slept through the night with waking up only once.
The second night as he got ready for the performance, he applied the cream and powder before putting on his diaper. When he stepped on stage smelling like a baby, Leslie and the A- teens knew what he'd done, and they smiled. Initially they'd been embarrassed for him, but now they were impressed with the way he was handling what they figured had to be an embarrassing and humiliating experience. They had no idea that for the hot, blond singer, his incontinence had become a turn-on. He smiled and waved at the audience and jumped into his first song with an enthusiasm and joy that was the old Aaron Carter. What a rush! He held his flow back as long as he could because he especially loved the way it felt when he flooded his undergarment. He managed to hold it back until he was in the middle of his sixth song
Swing swing it out swing it out
Swing it baby let me know what you mean what you say
When you swing it all the way
Now baby swing it out
Ooooooh, c'mon now
Swing swing it out swing it out
Swing it baby let me know what you mean what you say
When you swing it all the way
Now baby swing it out
O yeah, baby, here we go.
He opened the flood gates and let his hot, fresh urine flow. His dick was pointing up in his undergarment, held in place by the material, and he felt his stream course up along his flat stomach to the tight band and barrier of the top of the garment, and then flow to either side and begin to flood down, heading in the opposite direction to the stream gushing out of his fleshy fountain. It flooded down over his genitals and between his legs where it soaked into the crotch of the diaper and began to weigh the material down. His warm urine began to wick up the back and he continued emptying his bladder as he finished the last four verses.
At the mid-show break he checked himself out. The plastic lining was tight, and he could see the hint of yellow, which really turned him on. He pressed the material against his body, squishing the piss out of the padding where it had not yet been totally absorbed. Whereas before he'd dreaded going back on stage, now he could not wait, and whereas before he dreaded feeling the build up of pressure in his loins until he had to do something about it, now he looked forward to that buildup with eagerness and anticipation.
Half way through the second half he flooded his diapers for the second time. Once again his warm piss flowed up over his stomach and flooded back down. His genitals grew hot from the fresh piss flowing over them, and the crotch of his undergarment began to sag as it filled with his urine. He wished that the delightful sensation of pissing himself, and the exciting daring of doing it on stage in front of a thousand screaming fans and in front of his mother, sister, and fellow performers, would never end. But of course it did, and with the last few squirts, the result of muscle contractions he purposefully executed, the flow ended. The crotch between his legs now sagged heavily with the weight of his second bladder full of piss, and the back, already wet, wicked up still more of his urine.
His smooth, compact butt was soaked and a warm, relaxing feeling passed through his groin. His dick, engulfed by the wet absorbent material, was throbbing hot.
As he gyrated on the stage and belted out his lyrics, he reached down carefully ran his hand over the bulge. It felt so good he had to do it again. He recalled early pictures of Michael Jackson groping himself as he sang, and his brother said that there had been quite a controversy over if he was really groping himself or not, and if he was gay. An interviewer supposedly had even asked him both questions in a television interview. Well, he didn't know about Michael, but he certainly was feeling himself up.
It felt awesome running his hand over the outer layer of clothing, pressing down on his undergarment, and feeling the piss-soaked cloth against his skin. He ran his hands along his thighs, and then along both sides on either side of his groin. It felt fantastic. He casually brushed the meaty pad of his hand against the bulge in his pants and he quivered with the thrill that ran through his swollen dick. He rubbed the edge of his hand up the length of the bulge, and then back down, casually stroking his stiff dick in front of a thousand fans. He felt the knob tingle and throb as his cock strained to get off a load. Over and over he stroked the swollen head through his piss-soaked undergarment, relishing the feeling. His dick throbbed and ached for the relief of a climax as he sang.
Say boomity boom boom, boombastick
Fun fun fun, funtastick
Swing the nation
Cause a sensation
Or good vibration
Somebody, anybody, everybody,
SCREAM
Aaron blasted off a load in his piss-soaked diaper. He was so hot his cum spurted out in rapid machine-gun fire, spraying up over his shaved pubes and belly in a flood and flowing down over his balls to collect in a pool in the crotch of his undergarment. He had just jerked off and was now shooting his stuff all over his piss-soaked stomach and in his diapers right there on stage before his mother and sister standing in the wings, and before a thousand fans watching the performance. That was so fucking hot! With every move he could feel his heavy, wet undergarment hanging between his legs and his sticky cum gluing the material to his stomach and his tight nuts.
So he finished the last set in his piss and cum soaked diapers, beaming out at his screaming fans with that trademark Aaron Carter smile. The Mona Lisa came to mind and the question as to what was the cause of her smile, and it struck him as so funny he felt positively giddy. His good humor was felt by his fans and they cheered all the louder for their sexy teen idol. As Aaron bowed and accepted the audience's accolades after his encore, he did not know how long his kidney infection would actually last, but he planned on having the problem for a while. Running a hand along his diaper and pressing the hot, creamy teen load that had spilled out into his diaper against his smooth body, Aaron bowed one last time and smiled as he felt his still warm piss being squeezed out of the crotch of his undergarment and over his balls. He inhaled deeply, delighting in the heady aroma, and with a wave to his adoring fans, bounded off the stage. This tour was going to be all right.