Hell

Derek washed his feet and ankles in the shower. They were covered with dirt and mud. And underneath that were the scars, some of them still bleeding. He'd staggered through brush, off the trail, some of it waist-high, some of it low, in search of the smoke. The woodsy smell. Led by the other man, his savior. His thighs and waist were scarred too, though not as bad.

He'd been instructed by his rescuer not to run the hot water too long. The heater was small, half-sized. So after the dirt was gone and the rest of his shaved body washed off, he turned the shower water off and stepped out. A folded towel had been laid out for him on the adjacent sink, and now he--gently--patted his sore body dry. In the small mirror he looked over his shoulder at the wounds on his ass. Both once-pale butt-cheeks. They were red, crisscrossing pink and red. It would take upwards to two weeks for them to heal. His goddamned Dom. What a fucking...wanker, as the Brits liked to say.

After toweling off Derek ventured into the adjacent bedroom. His host, his rescuer had told him he'd lay out some clothes for him. But on the bed was an array of women's underwear. Old-fashioned underwear. A pale pastel (silk?) granny panty. A C-cup bra. Black stockings. A garter belt. A short-cut honey-blonde wig...

"There's lipstick on her dresser," his host advised, having just entered the bedroom doorway.

Derek was still shaking his head. WTF??

"Every house should have a woman in it. And tonight at least, you're my woman. These are my wife's things. She died two years ago from cancer. I miss her terribly. Dress up like her or I'll toss you back out of my cabin, into the freezing cold.

Derek protested, mildly, "But I..."

"You told me you were tied to a tree, and your Dom was whipping you...What kind of man does that if he's not submissive? Effeminate? Dress up for me," the man commanded. "Do it." He left the doorway.

Derek examined the underwear on the bed, fingering it, giving it a feel. He would've been lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little. Being rescued by this man had already given him something of a hard-on. But now dressing up in his dead wife's underwear? It aroused him even more.

It would not be, in truth, the first time he'd dressed in women's underwear. He used to perform, crossdressed, on a livestream sex site. He played music in the background, he danced. As more and more viewers entered his "room", and gave their directions, he'd end up naked, or nearly so, a jelly dildo up his ass, which was now turned to his computer camera. He enjoyed showing off his slender, "dressed" body to other men, including his Dom. But his Dom had heard distant gunshots--shotgun blasts--had freaked out and run, leaving Derek tied to a tree. It was this man here, tonight, in this cabin, 12-gauge leaning by the door, who'd rescued him. Given him shelter and safety. Dressing for him was, well, the least he could do. Right?

He pulled on the pale pastel granny panties, the waistline of which came up nearly to his navel. Once fully dressed, including the wig, and after he'd applied bright-red lipgloss to his lips, Derek ventured into the cabin's livingroom. To his right a stone fireplace blazed. It was like--the heat--entering hell. But it was better than being tied to a tree, out in the open. The ever-increasing cold. The kitchen was at the opposite end and the host, standing there turned and smiled.

"My wife, reborn." He went on: "You're younger than her, a lot more slender, sexier, but...You're still my Helen."

Helen?

The older man came forward, gave Derek a feel in the empty bra cup. "No tits, though," he observed. "Too bad. You can't have everything. But you do have these," fondling Derek's little balls in panty's crotch. He ran his hand up and gave Derek's partial erection a caress. Then he reached around and squeezed his ass.

"Flatter than Helen's, but that's OK." He retreated to the kitchen. "I put a beef stew on before I went hunting. It'll be ready soon. You hungry?"

"Starving," Derek replied.

"You can set the table. Believe it or not I have a fairly decent red in the cabinet there. You can open it and fill our glasses. I want to get drunk tonight. I haven't fucked a woman in over two years. I want to fuck you tonight."

The host turned back to his stew, while Derek, dressed as his wife, stood amazed, shocked. Fucked? Was the man serious? He was in his sixties. Could he still get it up? Derek passed a shiver. This was all too much for him. First marching naked through the woods, up the trail then off of it, to a small clearing with a tree at the back. Being tied to it, tightly. Then whipped and caned by his Dom.

And now showered and dressed in women's underwear in a cabin in the nearby woods, his savior and protector, his rescuer, talking about fucking him later. Derek shook his head. This was unreal...

He laid out plates and silverware and glasses on the small wooden table. Then he found the wine bottle and opened it and half-filled the bulbous Bourgogne glasses with the red. His host, meanwhile, ladled bowls with beef stew, and set them on the plates Derek had set at. They sat. Ate. Talked.

"So tell me about this thing in the woods again?" the host asked.

Derek hesitated. It was embarrassing. He finally admitted, "I've had a Dom for some time now. We...he...at any rate we came up with a list of new things we could do. One of them was hiking into the woods and...He said he knew a place, a clearing off the trail where he could tie me to a tree and whip me. And other things..."

"But he freaked out at the sound of gunfire?"

Derek nodded. The stew was delicious. Delicious but...gamey. Venison? "There were a couple of shots. Yeah, he ran. Some Dom..."

"But where were your clothes?"

"He made me take them off once we were in the forest. He marched me up the trail and then off it to the clearing, naked. He whipped me the whole way."

"And you enjoy this?"

"To an extent. But I didn't want to die in the woods. It was already getting cold when you..."

"I rescued you, yes," said the man, the host. "And I expect something for it."

"I dressed up in your wife's underwear for you."

"And you look very hot, very sexy. There's nothing sexier than a man in women's underwear."

"No?"

"No."

They ate in silence for a moment, sipped their red wine.

"Are you a virgin?" the man asked.

"A...you mean?"

"I mean with another man," the host said casually.

"No. I mean yes."

"Either you are or aren't. It's like being pregnant."

Derek bowed his head. "I've been fucked a few times, if that's what you mean. But it's been a while."

"It's been a while for me, too. I want you. I want to pull those panties down and put my big cock in you. Shoot my load. I'm sick and tired of masturbating. I need a woman in my life!" the man said, banging a fist on the table.

"Well, I..." It was all Derek could get out.

After dinner they sat on the couch together, in the hell of the livingroom, finishing the wine. It was beyond hot. Derek began to perspire--especially after his host moved close to him and began caressing his cock in the panty and fondling his balls. He kissed Derek. Pushed his tongue into his mouth. They held each other; they necked. The man asked:

"You'll suck my cock?"

Derek heard himself reply, "Yes."

"I'll need it."

"I'll do it." Derek opened the man's pants. His cock was half-hard. Thick, circumcised, but only halfway there. Derek bent over and went to work. With his left hand he dug out the man's balls and fondled them as he sucked. And sucked.

He sucked his host until his jaw gave out. He came up for air. The man said, "Let's go in the bedroom. I want to pull those panties down..."

Once Derek was in position, on his elbows and knees in bed's center, his host did--yanking them down to Derek's knees. He'd pulled an old, ancient tube of K-Y jelly from a bedside drawer and proceeded to lube up his cock. It was hard--as hard a man in his sixties could get without help.

Derek's anus awaited, his cheeks spread wide. The man put the head of his cock to hit and pushed in. He pushed deeper as Derek winced. It had been a long time since he'd had anything other than his Dom's dildos (and other things) up his ass. This man pushed deeper but--his cock wasn't hard enough. He was only in halfway. He began fucking Derek with half his thick cock.

Derek moaned with each thrust, aware that his voice had gone up a couple of octaves. He was feeling quite fem at the moment. Not just because of the women's underwear he had on but because a man's cock was--somewhat--up his ass. He'd begun to enjoy it; to relish it. "Push it deeper," he said.

"I'm...trying," said the older man.

"Put it in me."

"I..."

And just like that, finally, he broke through. And Derek saw stars--against the background of an infinite black universe. Some of them were shooting, the stars, in a downward arc. There were swirling galaxies, tinged with bright colors. Derek cried out, "Oh!" And again. And again as his Dom fucked him with the dildo.

He was tied to the tree, his once-pale buttocks crisscrossed pink and red with whip and cane (a thin tree branch stripped of leaves) marks. Now the jelly dildo was inside him and he was crying out. This was so good!

Two gunshots rang out.