Coming of Age

Chapter 4
Go Fourth

Chapter Description: Gabriel is forced to accept the reality of his predicament and how he must 'change' to remedy it.

I simply pointed toward the door of the bathroom and he exited. It was at this point that I saw what had to have been the only bag in the entire room: a small cloth bag containing baby powder (expected), a nearly empty container of wipes, and a travel bottle of cream. I grabbed the bag and sat it on the bed as Gabriel stood up from it.

Absentmindedly, I felt some pity for whatever cleaning staff would have to scrub the fresh stain Gabriel had just left on the comforter. I made a mental note for later. Gabriel hadn’t started sobbing (yet) but I could see tears welling up in his eyes as he stood with his pants undone and a lower body soaked through with piss and toilet water.

I sighed. “Take off those clothes,” pinching at my forehead as I felt a headache coming in.

Slowly, but I bit faster than last time, he slowly stripped in front of me. He started with his shirt, making the mistake of letting his urine soaked pants and underwear fall onto the otherwise clean garment. As he dropped the ruined clothes into the waste bin I turned on the shower and handed him a fresh towel with of the bar of the hotel’s finest cheap soap.

He swallowed a bit and sniffled as he walked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower, not bothering to close the door or the shower curtain for that matter.

“I’ll grab your bag from my car,” I said, grabbing the room key from the desk. “Don’t leave until I get back.” I couldn’t imagine he would be going anywhere without clothes anyway.

* * *

It took about 5 minutes for me to retrieve the bag and return to the room. The sexuality of this situation wasn’t something I could wrap my head around. Even as I reentered the hotel room and saw Gabriel absentmindedly washing his babyish crotch, I was convinced the emotions I were feeling were something different.

“Alright, I got your bag from the car. Come on out bud.”

I could hear the water turn off as he started toweling off. I mostly sat quietly at the desk as he entered the main room and opened up the suitcase. He looked inside briefly before starting to cry again. I called his name but heard no response. As I walked toward the suitcase and looked inside, I realized the cause of his distress almost instantly. Within the suitcase, rather than the

shirts and slacks of a young boy, were a variety of bright colored tops, patterned skirts, and, probably most distressing for Gabriel, a few pink cloth diapers, complete with plastic panties.

I sighed. This was hardly ideal, and a lunch was slowly turning into an entire afternoon. Gabriel sunk to his knees, slowly crushing himself beneath the weight of his own embarrassment. As he moved toward me, I opened my arms to receive his embrace and ran a hand through his hair. A despicable thought ran through my mind. I couldn’t resist the ideas flowing through my mind, this EXACT set of concurrent scenarios, the perfection of the timing, the vulnerability of the target.

I sat the cherub of a freshman on my knee and wiped a tear away.

“Gabriel.” He looked up at me. “We’re going to have to go out and buy you new clothes.”

He nodded slowly, sniffling a bit.

“We’re going to need to buy you new clothes Gabriel. We have to go out.”

He finally looked up at me, the realization dawning within his eyes. “Wha-wha…but…I can’t go out like–“

I put two fingers to his lips and stopped him. I slowly stood him up and pulled the towel from around his waist. Crossing the distance to the power-dusted bed, I spread the towel down. Gabriel shivered, his little privates exposed to the cool air as I pulled a cloth diaper from the set in the suitcase.

His blushing turned from a slight scarlet to a deeper crimson. “I’m not wearing that,” he said softly.

“You don’t have a choice here Gabriel.”

“I won’t.”

“You will,” I said, placing the diaper down calmly on the bed.

“I’m not wearing a diap–“ He didn’t finish. He grunted as I grabbed his arm at the elbow and pulled. Hard. His eyes went wide as I sat on the bed and pulled him across my lap, putting pressure on his back with my left hand. In no time his legs were clamped between mine, and his hands pinned behind his back.

“Please! I d-don’t wanna sp-sp-spanking! You c-can’t do that,” he choked out between sobs, truly wailing now.

I raised my hand and brought it down swiftly. My palm connected with his pasty, naked rear with a smack that reverberated about the room. I raised my hand and could see the beginning of a print across his cheeks. I continued delivering blows in quick succession, turning the print from a low shade to a deep hue, feeling the rhythmic sobs leave his mouth and rack his body in sequence with the smacks.

My own arousal only grew as I continued; I became aware of the steady stiffening of my own member as Gabriel’s flopped about uselessly next to my leg. My own breathing was deep and heavy as I finished the last of the spanking. Meanwhile, Gabriel was a sniveling mess. I could feel rivulets of salty tears running onto my legs. I pulled his legs back on top of mine but he made no attempt to leave my arms. I gently scooped his shaking body up into my arms, taking care to leave his surely pained bottom untouched, and held him as he cried into my shoulder and slowly calmed down. I laid him stomach first onto the bed and ducked into the bathroom, returning to a limp Gabriel and holding the cream from earlier.

“I didn’t want to do that,” I said softly, beginning to softly knead the cream onto his bottom, “But I need you to understand why. You need clothes, and we can’t stay here.”

He sniffled softly.

“Your parents were due to check out already, and hotel staff could come by any minute to prepare the room for someone else,” I said, “So either you wait naked for hotel staff to find you and make me explain a late charge to your Father, or you put on the clothes we have until we get you new ones. So let me know if you want me to leave and head back alone.”

He said nothing.

I finished rubbing the last of the cool cream into his bottom, and, from the now much lower volume of his sniffles, had eased some of Gabriel’s pain. I heard him wince as I gently turned him over onto his back and began dusting his crotch with baby powder.

His little face was lingering on the edge of tears as he slowly began to accept what I was doing to him. Swallowing as I gripped his ankles and raised them high above his head, he let a few tears slip free as I slipped the thirsty, girlish diaper beneath his backside and lowered him on top of it. With some safety pins from the suitcase, it was only about three folds and a few fastenings before Gabriel was diapered like a two year old girl.

Sitting up, slowly, he asked, “So…what now?” I smiled internally at the infantile resignation behind his voice. I reached into the suitcase again, pulling out a girlish skirt, plastic panties, and a pastel blue t-shirt. Stealing a glance at the monogrammed name along the waist of the panties, I grinned as something else popped into my head.

He lifted his arms voluntarily as I slipped the shirt onto him, laughing despite himself when I gave his ribs a little tickle. Next was the pink plastic panties, up his legs, then the shimmying of the skirt up to his waist.

“C’mon, up.”

He stood from the bed, now a spitting image of his younger sister. I only now realized how similar their faces were once the identical heights and physiques were accentuated by the little girl’s clothing. If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t even consider his being male as a possibility. And I was rather confident no one else would.

I gave him, her, a smirk. “Alright…Gabriella. Let’s go find you some new clothes.”