Her Bliss: Cabin Fever

Her Bliss: the corner of Carie's mind where all her erotic fantasies run free. Anything is possible, and she gets to experience her deepest desires. The catch? She's never in control, and once the fantasy starts, she has to see it through.

~

"You'd think," I said, my teeth chattering, "that a magical space deep inside my own head would have some freaking climate control."

Her Bliss is lovely in winter. The endless white void looks pure as driven snow, bright enough to burn your eyes if you look at it for too long. The shallow pool of water covering the infinite mosaic that passes for a floor here never freezes over, although it gets so cold that you can't dip a toe in without it turning blue. I was standing in this frigid water atop of a mosaic depicting a snowy owl. Thankfully, I was wearing duck boots, so my toes had some protection from frostbite.

Clad in a charcoal gray peacoat, blue skinny jeans, and a red hat, I stood out starkly against the white "sky." A thick black scarf was wound tightly around my throat. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and began to walk towards a dark speck in the distance. As I began to plod along, a chilling wind ripped through Her Bliss, and I hunched over in a feeble attempt for protection.

"Sure do love winter!" I snarled into my scarf as I pulled it over my nose. "Sure do love not being able to feel my legs!"

I braved a glance upwards into the bitter wind, and saw that the dark speck was an honest to God log cabin. Oh, thank goodness I cheered inwardly as I began to run towards it. The mosaic beneath my feet showed the owl flying through a frozen forest. I didn't notice, too intent on reaching the cabin. It was small, a single story with a triangular roof, and a solid oak door. I guessed that it couldn't have more than a few rooms inside. I began to pound on the oak door, desperate to escape the bitter cold. No one answered the door. I pounded my fist against it for a minute before I gave up and, feeling sheepish, tried to pull the door open.

The door was quite heavy, but I managed to pull it open with an audible "oof!". I stepped into a small living room, devoid of people but crammed full of furniture. Oversized armchairs and a fat couch faced an empty fireplace, while a wooden dining room table sat next to the tiniest kitchenette I'd ever seen. I wasted no time in struggling to shut the heavy door and hurrying inside the cabin. The narrow wooden floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I approached the fireplace. The air inside the cabin wasn't much warmer than the air outside. Luckily, a pile of kindling, some chopped firewood, and even a few booklets of matched were piled by the fireplace. I wasn't much of a fire starter, but even I was able to jumble together some kindling and strike a match. Under my ministrations, a fire slowly came to life before me, and the air in the cabin quickly warmed. I piled some firewood on top of my fire and turned away, reasonably confident that it would burn for hours.

The tiny kitchenette had running water, a petite stove with burners, and a few pale blue cupboards. Rummaging around, I came up with a diminutive whistler kettle, a group of cheery yellow mugs, and some packets of hot cocoa. "Well," I mused quietly. "I'm all set to hibernate here." My hands were much more practiced in the kitchen than with the fire, and I set the kettle on to boil with a sense of growing ease.

My favorite part of winter had always been making cozy cups of cocoa in a warm house, and my grumpy spirits began to lift. As I waited for the water to boil, I leaned against the counter and looked more closely at my surroundings. The room felt as if it was well traveled, but not quite a home. There was no dust, but there was also no pictures on the walls, or shoes by the door. I wondered if this was some sort of waypoint for travelers. My eyes strayed to the far wall of the room, where I saw two doors. One was ajar, revealing a cramped bathroom. The other was shut. Curious, I rose from the counter and started towards the shut door, but I stopped dead as the front door swung open.

I jumped in surprise, then hissed in frustration as a wave of cold air came rampaging into the cabin, scaring away some of the heat I had built up. A tall figure stepped into the cabin, then shut the door behind them. I noticed with slight interest and trepidation that it seemed easy for them to shut the heavy oak door. The figure wore a long oatmeal duster, and had a slouchy gray beanie on. As the figure stepped into the light thrown by my fire, I gasped. I was looking at a mountain of a woman. 6'4", with long red hair and pale skin. Her freckled face was pretty, and was currently grimacing from the cold.

"Oh, hello," she said, looking in my direction for the first time. Her voice had a rich timbre to it, which made me think, oddly, of rosewood. "Is this your cabin?"

"No," I replied, my voice slightly shaky. She was easily one of the tallest women I'd ever seen. At 5 '11", I was used to towering over many other women, but this woman dwarfed me. It was an intimidating, and enjoyable, change. "I stumbled upon this place for the first time a few minutes ago. Seems abandoned."

The woman nodded. "I bet it's a rest point for travelers."

Seems odd that a pocket dimension that exists to titillate a kinky trans woman would have travelers, or weather, or rest points, I thought again. Out loud, I said, "I assumed that too." The kettle began to whistle. "I'm boiling water for hot cocoa, would you like some?" I asked the tall woman.

She nodded. "Yes, please." As I prepared the cocoa, she said, "I'm Laney, nice to meet you."

"I'm Carie, nice to meet you too," I replied. I handed her her cocoa in a yellow mug with daisies on it. I began to sip my own coca from a yellow polka dot mug.

"Thanks," Laney said gratefully. She took a long gulp of cocoa. I stared in horror.

"Don't burn yourself!" I cried out as she finally lowered the mug. "I just boiled that water!"

Laney smiled. "Doesn't bother me much, and it's cold out there." As she said that, I noticed that her pale face was slightly flushed. "But between the cocoa and the fire, it's getting pretty warm in here." As she spoke, she unbuttoned her oatmeal duster and draped it over the back of an armchair. Without her coat, I saw that she was wearing a gray sweater. She filled it out very nicely, with large arms and a generous bust. I felt a blush creeping up my neck.

Really, Carie? You see a tall woman with buff arms and a big chest, and you're already getting turned on? I took a long sip of cocoa to hide my embarrassment, and choked as the scalding liquid burned its way down my throat. Smooth.

"Are you alright?" Laney asked, looking concerned.

"Oh, yes, I'm quite alright," I spluttered. "Not quite as tough as you with the cocoa I guess." I smiled weakly, feeling stupider by the second.

"I love your scarf," Laney said brightly, pointing at my thick black scarf. "Where did you get it?"

"Oh, well, I made it, actually," I said, trying and failing to keep a note of pride from my voice. "I'm an amateur knitter, and it gets really cold where I live, so I tried my hand at knitting this." I pulled the scarf off so she could see it better. I knitted it in double stockinette, using large needles and some heavy duty yarn. It had taken me forever to do, especially since I tried to pull each stitch as tightly as I could, since I was afraid of the whole thing falling apart.

Laney smiled as she examined my scarf. "That's pretty good!" She exclaimed. I felt my knees go slightly weak at her praise. "Do you enjoy knitting?"

"Yes, I do," I said earnestly. "I am still a learner, but I've enjoyed practicing the skill, and you always end up with something cute or useful, unless you really screw up..."

She laughed. "Well, I'm impressed. Come on, you've got to be roasting in that coat. Take it off, we've got the fire."

I raised my eyebrows and went slightly pink, but I felt compelled to listen to her. I unbuttoned my charcoal peacoat and slung it over the armchair next to hers. I was wearing a simple gray t shirt underneath. I still felt a little cold, so I kept the scarf wound around my neck.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom," Laney said, and she disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. I let out a frustrated sigh once I was alone.

"Get a grip, girl," I muttered angrily to myself. "You're really going all weak-kneed over some tall girl you just met? It's inappropriate, and you're being obvious anyway. Yeah, she's cute and all, but that's no reason to turn into a puddle! You have no idea who she is!" I fell silent as the bathroom door swung open.

"Sorry," Laney said as she walked back over to the fire. I waved away her apology. "You know, we're leaving wet footprints everywhere because of that weird puddle outside," she said to me. "Boots off?"

Again, I felt compelled to do as she said. We pulled our boots off and put them by the fire to dry. "Hopefully the warmth from the fire will dry our footprints," I murmured. "I'd hate to have dirk tied up the floor, especially if this place belongs to someone."

"I don't think that anyone lives here permanently," Laney said again. "But maybe there's a hit in that closed off room." She nodded at the closed door next to the bathroom. "Can't hurt to look; it's probably storage or a pantry or something."

I didn't want to potentially invade someone's privacy, but I suspected that Laney was right about this place, and I was quite curious anyway. "I agree, let's check it out. We walked over to the door. I felt my stomach give a tiny lurch as I realized how short she made me look when we stood together. The door, like the others in the cabin, was made of a solid oak branches cut and bundled together, and was heavy. Laney pushed it open with a small grunt, and we stepped into the final room of the cabin.

It was a cozy bedroom. A short dresser with a large mirror on it was pushed against the left wall. A plush little stool sat in front of the mirror, along with an array of makeup and beauty products. A large bed frame was in the right corner. It was masterfully crafted of pinewood; a gently sloping head and footrest were made of thick pine branches, and between them lay a queen sized mattress. The mattress was topped by an intricate quilt, decorated with snowy owls flying through pine forests, and some plump pillows. The bed looked wonderfully solid and comfortable, and I felt a strange urge to flop down on it and take a long nap. A matching pine nightstand stood off to the side of the bed.

"Wow," Laney said, sounding pleased. "Now this is what I call a master bedroom. I could get used to this. Unless you're calling dibs?" Laney looked sideways at me.

"Um, no, of course not!" I said. I was too distracted by the bed, it looked so inviting... but it would be rude to take this room and leave Laney the couch.

"We can share then!" Laney said happily, shutting the heavy door with a thunk and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Share?" I squeaked.

"Of course!" Laney chirped. "Unless, you'd rather not..." she said, giving me a look that was slightly too knowing in my opinion.

"Oh, no, sharing is fine," I chittered, unsure of what to say. I'd never shared a bed with another girl before.

Laney flopped down on the bed and patted the space next to her. "I'm beat, and I expect you are too. C'mon, Carie."

I could feel myself going red, but once again, I felt compelled to do as she said. I sat down on the bed.

"You know, you don't have to everything I saw," Laney said casually. "You keep following my suggestions, but you don't have to come sleep or share the room if you don't want to, Carie."

"Oh, I don't mind, I think your suggestions are very good, and they make sense to follow, and I want to..." my babbling trailed off. What the Hell was I talking about?

Laney rolled onto her side and gave me a flat stare. "Carie, do you like me?

"Well, you seem very nice, but I did just meet you," I blustered, my face going redder and redder. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "It is so painfully obvious that you're into girls, as you've been trying and failing not to stare at my chest for quite some time. Also, I heard you talking to yourself while I was in the bathroom. I figured you'd have picked up on my hints. I just asked you to literally sleep with me. Do I need to draw you a map showing the way into my pants?"

I couldn't do anything but wring my hands. I was now beet red, feeling mortified at having been so obvious.

Laney's face softened. "I'm sorry, that was a little harsh," she said, sounding as if she felt bad. "You seem like a very nice girl. You're cute, too. Let me take a guess: you're into girls but you're totally inexperienced with them, and you're also a total submissive, so you're desperate to please your potential partners but you're unsure how. You're terrified that if you make a mistake, you'll spoil the fun, and nothing makes you feel worse than the idea of spoiling the fun."

My mouth was very dry. Warmth had pooled in my belly when she called me cute. Being this close to such a pretty girl who was coming on to me was making my dick stir slightly. "That's an accurate assessment," I whispered.

"So I'm taking the lead," Laney asserted. It was not a question, but I nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

I finally found my voice. "Whatever you want with me."

Laney looked at me curiously. "Whatever?"

I nodded. "I'm yours to play with."

"Play with..." Laney mused. She looked as though a wonderful idea had struck her. "You're going to be my new toy, Carie. Does that sound okay to you?"

"Please," I said to her, trying to keep the yearning from my voice.

"Alright," Laney said. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "If at any point this goes too far, you have to tell me, okay?"

I nodded, my eyes wide and my breathing shallow.

"Get up, then," she ordered, her tone now brisk. "Sit at the stool." I complied immediately. She rolled off the bed and stood behind me. We looked into the mirror together. Laney's reflection was composed, her pretty face staring impassively back at us. In contrast, I looked both thrilled and terrified. With me sitting down, the height difference between us was more pronounced than ever. I noticed Laney's eyes scanning over the assorted makeup products spread out before us.

"You are pretty, doll," she said to me. "Let's make you beautiful." She stepped before me and reached out a hand. Her fingers were long and slender, with rounded fingernails. She placed her fingers on my eyelids with the utmost care, and slowly pushed them down. "Keep them closed," she murmured.

My heart was beating rapidly. I felt sure that she could hear it. With my eyes closed, I could certainly hear it with ease. I strained my ears, hoping to get a hint of what Laney was doing. I heard a soft clink, then nothing. Moments later, I felt a finger slide across my left cheek, and a familiar smell hit my nostrils.

Foundation?

I had some basic makeup skills, but I didn't use them often. Somehow I had just never worked them into my daily routine. It seemed to make surprisingly little difference if I wore it or not, and anyway, my makeup skills were poor enough that I worried I'd end up detracting from my appearance. It had been months since I'd last practiced makeup at all.

I couldn't see what Laney was doing, and I didn't dare disobey her and sneak a peek. But judging by the sensations on my face, she had much quicker and more practiced hands than I did with makeup. She spread the foundation rapidly across my cheeks and jaw, and then I felt something very soft brush against my checks. She's probably applying blush, I thought with some excitement. Blush was one of my favorite parts of makeup. The only thing I liked the look of more was mascara, even though it was a nightmare to apply. As that thought passed through my head, something occurred to me, just as Laney finally spoke again. "Unfortunately, we can't do mascara with your eyes closed, and I don't want you looking yet." I was disappointed. I loved the way mascara looked on me, which may sound weird or vain, but it was true.

Laney pushed something against my lips and moved it around. Lipstick, probably. I heard a click, probably her putting the lipstick back on the dresser, and then she whispered in my ear. "Sorry doll, but you can't look yet. Stay still, okay?"

I gave a small nod so she knew I understood. To my surprise, I felt her pull my hair forward, followed by a gentle pulling feeling on the right side. She was brushing my hair!

I couldn't help but give a tiny shiver. Something about the brush moving through my thick curls was very soothing, and a little erotic. Laney's hand on the brush was gentle, but firm. I was amazed that she managed to run the brush through my hair again and again without accidentally pulling hard and hurting me. Her hands were very precise. An almost inaudible sigh bubbled in my mouth as I was soothed by the sensation.

After a wonderful minute, she pulled the brush away. My hair felt heavy, and I could feel thick strands brushing against my cheeks. Laney squealed in delight. "You make a beautiful doll!" I realized that she had been calling me doll since I sat on the stool, and recalled her saying I would be her "new toy." She had meant that literally, apparently. My stomach clenched with arousal at the thought, and I felt excited little pins and needles in my fingers.

"You can look now," Laney said to me. I opened my eyes and let out a shocked gasp.

Laney was really, really good with makeup. I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror. My face looked smoother and creamier than I had ever seen it, with rosy cheeks. My parted lips were painted a soft red. Even without mascara, Laney had somehow drawn attention to my dark blue eyes, which were wide in awe. She had brushed my curly brown hair into long waves, and used it to frame my face flawlessly. I looked like a, well, perfect porcelain doll.

"This is amazing," I whispered. Laney pressed a finger against my rouged lips.

"You're a very fun doll to pretty up." Her reflection was beaming. "But you aren't really wearing doll clothes." She tugged on my arm, and I stood up. She looked down at me, her eyes twinkling deviously. "Let's fix that."

We walked back to the bed. Laney gave me a slight push, and I sat down on the edge of the mattress. She pulled off my socks, tossed them into a corner of the room, and chuckled when she saw my pink nail polish.

"You really do have a soft heart, eh Carie?" She teased me, breaking character for an instant. I grinned sheepishly.

"Alright, doll," she said loudly as she straightened up. "Let's get you into some proper clothes." She unwound my black scarf, but lingered with it in her hands for a moment. She set it down next to me. Her fingers then hooked under the edge of my t shirt and pulled it over my head. She tossed the shirt into the corner with my socks. I flushed in embarrassment. My small boobs were cupped in a plain white bra, and my tummy looked as round as ever. But my modest bust or heavy middle didn't seem to upset Laney at all. On the contrary, she gave my chest a look that spoke plainly of lust, but left my bra hooked for now.

A shiver ran down my back, partly from arousal, partly from the cold air hitting my mostly naked torso. The heat from the fire was shut off by the heavy oak door. Laney noticed my shiver and said, grinning wickedly, "you'll be warming up soon. I lied about the doll clothes; obviously I don't have anything else to play dress up with you. But I suspect you'll be just fine anyway." As she spoke, she unbuttoned my jeans and began to tug them down. A stab of panic hit my heart.